Fine Print
by Astridhe
Summary: Something has been stolen from the Demonweb, but its pursuit brings an inquisitor and a House Wizard to a place they never expected: the surface. Sent forth by a demon lord, armed with secrets and unwitting allies, the drow are caught up in primordial war and facing the servants of Prince of the Nine Hells.
1. Guest in the Temple

**Author's Note:** There is romance in here of the not M/F variety, just as a heads up. Also, this follows _Falling Grace,_ but it isn't absolutely necessary to have read it. It just helps.

* * *

The light of setting Narbondel shone through the half-closed curtains, halfway illuminating the bedroom where Alystin of House Druu'giir lay wrapped up in the sheets with her lover. It was still and quiet, a space for just the two of them. Aly lay with her head propped up on one arm, studying the sleeping inquisitor. It was so rare for her to have time where Sabal was hers and only hers. Normally the wilder was caught up in so much Church business that there wasn't a chance to even breathe. Aly had all of her duties in the House as well, which so often limited their time together even on the rare occasions Sabal could carve out a space for them. Now, however, the wizard had a chance to take in the strangely peaceful image of the inquisitor lost in sleep. She traced her index finger along the bold scar that ran horizontally across Sabal's face, from one cheekbone to the other.

Amber eyes flickered beneath closed lids in response and a faint smile touched those so often cruel lips, but there was no sign that the wilder was waking up. Sabal's harsh beauty seemed somehow softer when she was sleeping. It also brought back to the surface her relative youth. People assumed Sabal was much older than her true age, which was not even two centuries. It was the weight of experience that had aged her beyond her years. With Alystin, people just sensed the truth, but she was not as battle-hardened as her lover.

Sabal's many scars were all familiar to Aly after this long together, though occasionally a new one appeared. They were reminders of both how fragile her lover was and how resilient. Things that would have killed others merely marked the inquisitor's body, but those same markings also told a story of brushing up against pain and even death. It was this one mark across her face that stood out vividly, unfaded by time, that had the most meaning. Now Aly brushed her fingertip around the curve of an ear and touched the place where a pointed eartip had once been before ghosting down across a line of earrings. Sabal stirred slightly and made a murmuring sound that left a warmth in Alystin's chest that she had experienced with no one else. It was no enchantment, but instead a feeling she refused to give a name. Admitting to it would be weakness, after all. Nowhere else in their world would she ever indulge in so much softness. It was only here.

There had been a long period of adjustment, where things were not exactly right during the insanity that was Menzoberranzan's most recent bout of tumultuous years. She had been so consumed in her studies that she had forgotten to be present in moments like these. Sabal had withdrawn into her duties in answer. That distance vanished once Sabal was released from the bindings of her vows. She was still an inquisitor, but in a very different way. Perhaps the change had to do with how close Aly came to losing her lover at the hands of celestial forces and their allies. She still didn't like to think about it. It was easier to pretend that Sabal was invincible. Sometimes she certainly seemed that way, coming off the field of battle triumphant and proud, with that glowing smile that Alystin loved to see. This softer side of Sabal was just as endearing, though. In these rare times where Sabal was just her lover—not an inquisitor or a warrior or an agent of Lloth—Aly felt oddly...complete.

It was strangely comfortable to have Sabal in her space. The inquisitor created a certain security with her mere presence, a safety alien to the nature of the drow. Alystin found herself almost taking it for granted more often than not. She was just accustomed to it now. It wasn't necessarily just protection from physical wound, either. Sabal was not the kind of creature to let any kind of harm befall Aly, no matter who that protection infuriated. However, it was also something else entirely. There was a sometimes confusing sense of contentment that had become more and more familiar over the years, that same warmth that touched her on mornings when she awoke to see breakfast waiting on the side table and Sabal lying on the other side of the bed feigning sleep, as if to suggest that it was through no beneficence of her own. The wilder didn't like being caught doing anything that might suggest she had softness to her, except for when they were in bed together. Alystin had become very used to calloused fingers stroking her hair or her back ever so gently and soft murmuring words of compliment and comfort just barely touching her ears.

If anyone ever saw them like this, it could cost them both dearly. People would know to strike at her to harm the unyielding inquisitor—as too many of a variety of faiths would gladly—and vice versa. It was already perilous enough that people knew they were together in any way. They were in dangerous and uncharted waters, but worthwhile ones.

Aly finished her leisurely examination of Sabal's face by smoothing a lock of white hair away from those wild amber eyes closed in sleep. She kissed the wilder's forehead and settled back down to go to sleep again herself. Someone rapped sharply on the door, breaking her peaceful reverie. She recognized that knock. It could only be Yvonnel, as no other priestess could so clearly communicate impatience with a single, simple gesture...and no other priestess would have intruded through the living area to their bedroom without tripping alarm spells. Aly sighed and slipped out of bed, grabbing a robe and pulling it on before answering the door. She didn't want to wake her lover up if it could be avoided. Sabal often went days without resting, and even more often without a bed, so the precious few hours where she could collapse into a comfortable resting place were hours that Alystin guarded as fiercely as she could.

Fortunately, Yvonnel took a step back to admit Aly to her own living room rather than barging through into the bedroom. The wizard was grateful for that much. "Sabal is asleep," the arcanist said in a low voice, closing the door behind herself as she stepped through. "Did you need to speak with her?"

"Actually, I'm here for you," Yvonnel said. The Revered Daughter's crimson eyes were evaluating, but not particularly malicious. She was as neatly groomed as usual, although she was in armor rather than her clerical robes. The symbol of Lloth boldly emblazoned over her heart was still a little uncomfortable for the wizard with her history of heresy, even if her current loyalties were permissible according to the Church. "We have a...guest...at the temple in Arach-Tinilith who asked for you."

Aly felt her throat tighten up. "A guest?" she said. That could only mean some kind of demon. She hadn't made contact with Asaron in years, though she did keep up with the rest of the cult. Was it the succubus checking in on her? She couldn't imagine that being allowed. The alternative, however, was that a yochlol had demanded her presence. That was a very uncomfortable idea considering her rocky relationship with the Spider Queen. "I suppose I should go now."

"I find that it's not generally advisable to keep such things waiting," Yvonnel said. She looked up at the sound of the bedroom door opening. "Sabal."

The inquisitor stood in the doorway, her hair mussed from sleep and her amber eyes still only half open. She had just pulled on a spare long shirt that covered her down to maybe mid thigh. "Yvonnel? What are you doing here at this hour?" Sabal mumbled.

"Alystin's presence is required at the temple," Yvonnel said with a thoughtful look, as if she were measuring Sabal. "You should probably join her, lest things get out of hand."

"That bad?" Aly asked nervously. She wasn't certain she wanted to get involved in anything so dangerous. Not that Yvonnel would likely give her much of a choice.

Yvonnel shrugged. "It pays to be cautious when dealing with demons," she said simply. She nodded to the pair of them. "I will meet you both at the temple. I'd like to know what has it so interested in you."

Sabal watched bleary-eyed as Yvonnel left. She stepped forward and slipped her arms around Aly's waist from behind, resting her chin on her lover's shoulder. "I'll be there. It will be fine," she said, sensing the wizard's apprehension even in her half asleep state. The inquisitor smiled faintly when Aly leaned back into her just a little bit.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to. I'll be alright," Alystin said. "I _can_ actually take care of myself."

"I know," Sabal said, turning her head so she could press a delicate kiss to the side of her lover's neck. She felt a rewarding shiver pass through the wizard's body. It was strange how something so small could get such a reaction, but gratifying. "But I would miss you. Besides, Yvonnel is expecting me now. She is not the kind of woman one wants to disappoint."

Aly sighed. "You have a point." She smiled slightly. "You know, you have to let go of me if we're going to get dressed."

Sabal made a soft grumbling noise and tightened her hold for an instant before letting her arms fall away. She lead the way back into their room where her armor and weapons were carefully laid out after an hour and a half of maintenance on it the preceding night. It was no more clutter than Alystin's arcane tomes, which seemed to end up in the bedroom constantly despite the inquisitor's best efforts to herd them into the wizard's study. She dragged a brush through her hair before changing into clean clothes and buckling on her armor. They would have a chance to bathe after whatever happened in the temple. The dark leather armor, reinforced with smoked mithril scale and fine chain at the joints, was scarred and battered after a lifetime of use. Sabal had gone through many suits, each one made in the image of the one that had come before it. The spiderweb patterns of adamantite that acted as a second set of strengthening reinforcement were intricate and interlocking. This was the second skin that had kept her alive for well more than a century now.

Alystin dressed more quickly since she didn't have armor to worry about. These days, she avoided wizardly robes where at all possible, aiming for street clothes that made her magical inclinations less obvious. The shirt and pants she wore were both well-fitting and made of fine material that did mark her as at least low nobility, however. She could feel Sabal's amber eyes on her, watching her dress with interest. "What?" the mage said with amusement.

"You look good in those clothes," Sabal said as she wound her blood-red sash around her waist, twisting and folding it into a perfect knot at her hip. The inquisitor flashed her lover one of her barely-there smiles. "You look better out of them, but still."

Even after years of being with the amber-eyed drowess, Alystin still felt her cheeks warm at the comment. It was strangely sweet, even more so coming from a fearsome creature like her lover. Sabal was not known for being the gentle person she was with the wizard. "Thank you," the mage said genuinely, prompting another of those barely-there smiles from Sabal that were no longer as rare as they once had been.

Their moment of peace ended the minute they stepped out the doors into the hall, not because House Druu'giir was chaotic, but because the world was now watching and there was little room in that for expression of softer emotions. The change was far more noticeable in Sabal, who had more of an image to project. Her expression became glacial and remote, her walk became a prowl, and those amber eyes glared out at the world as if every iota of existence had done her some grievous offense. It scattered servants when they reached the main hall with more effectiveness than any amount of kicking and shouting ever could hope to achieve, and this wasn't even Sabal in a bad mood. Those were the days where people would fight each other just to get out of her way. In the beginning, Aly had been a little off-put by the attitude presented by the wilder, but now she actually found it comforting. The anxiety of others at Sabal's presence meant safety for the mage had arrived. For her part, Alystin just tried to look noble with only marginal success. She didn't have the sneering presence that her mother and sisters had had, nor the winning charisma of Matron Druu'giir. She was too accustomed to being the quiet House Wizard who toiled away in relative obscurity, though she was now in the limelight far more often than she had been in her original house. The current Matron Mother in her life appreciated her contributions and made certain that the rest of the world knew it. It was a pleasant change of pace, even if it meant that people now recognized her on the street.

The streets of Menzoberranzan were not so crowded here in Qu'ellarz'orl, the noble district, with its glittering towers and broad avenues, but the number of people on the street markedly increased as they approached the grim edifice of Arach-Tinilith—shaped like a black spider with Menzoberranzan as its web—that brooded over the drow city. From this vantage point, it was possible to see the whole of the expansive city from a distance that did not show the sordid and chaotic nature of the place. It was darkly beautiful, remote, and perfect. Alystin would never feel at home in the temple that was part of Arach-Tinilith, but it became less and less intimidating as time went by. She no longer had to fear the wrath of Lloth, not when she served an allied demon lord who demanded the veneration of the Spider Queen. Aly paid the drow goddess at least lip service, no matter how much she disliked doing so.

Young drow parted to make way for the wizard and the barely-restrained maelstrom that was her lover. Sabal kept her whirling mind carefully shuttered within the fortress that was her will. Her lips pressed into a thin, cruel line of disapproval whenever people moved even a touch slow for her tastes. Her crowd-repellant abilities meant that they arrived untouched at the temple, well in advance of what time was expected. Neither of them hesitated at the door despite the unknown danger awaiting them.

What a danger it was.

Alystin saw a shape unlike anything she had ever seen in a temple of Lloth waiting at the altar, half wreathed in smoke. It was a flickering specter that seemed to blur in and out of reality indistinctly, almost as if made up of several overlaid mirror images. It was humanoid, but twisted and shadowy with no clear gender or features. "Mageling," it greeted in a voice that was like many speaking at once. Its words resonated in the minds of everyone assembled, though those words only reached the barest surface of Sabal's walls. She was the only one who did not appear perturbed. Even Aly was uncomfortable at the intrusion despite the fact that she'd been expecting something of this nature. Normally Sabal was the only one in her thoughts.

This was not a demon, at least not in the traditional sense. It was an eidolon, an expression of a plane—this time, the chaotic and evil Abyss itself—made manifest by the will of a very, very powerful demon...perhaps even a demon lord. Alystin sincerely doubted it had been sent by Lloth. The Spider Queen had her handmaidens for that. "Greetings," she said carefully. "What business motivates you to consult me, creature?"

"We are the servant of the Lady of Sacrifice," it said. It crouched down at the top of the steps and sat like a gargoyle surveying its domain. "We are bound to deliver this message to the mageling."

Abruptly, the voice changed. It became a single feminine voice that could have been crafted out of smoke and honey, tones just barely hinting at darker things. **I have a task for you, child.**

Alystin shivered at the abyssal, otherworldly quality to that voice. No one else would be able to make it out clearly. Sabal, Yvonnel, and the others would hear only a whispering of hinted Abyssal and that strange feeling of a powerful presence.

 **Something precious to Lloth was stolen from the Demonweb: knowledge. You will make certain it does not fall into the wrong hands. Retrieve it or destroy it. Either will be satisfactory. You will do this thing, child, and I will reward you.**

The wizard nodded a little unsteadily. There were few details here, so she would have to summon and interrogate more demons...something not to be done before the watching eyes of the Church. Yvonnel had ushered out all but the most senior priestesses, which, while somewhat helpful, did not do much in the way of putting Aly at ease. These were the people she had to be most worried about, after all. To make it even worse, all of them were now scrutinizing her. At least, she thought she was going to have to summon more demons.

The eidolon leaped and vanished into Alystin, sending waves of agony through the drowess. She stumbled backwards, visions flashing behind her eyes. Her perception changed as she stood in some other place, a primordial darkness filled with webs and the arachnoid, crawling movements of creatures that she could not see. She could see someone running with all eight of her eyes and gave chase on instinct, many legs moving in perfect series. A man, with fair skin and fair hair. Not a faerie. She was not very familiar with surface races, but she assumed he was half elf from his narrow face and rounded ears. He looked terrified when he glanced back over his shoulder. He was running to a portal of some kind. What she did see was the symbol on his cloak. Asmodeus. Her blood boiled in her veins, charring her from the inside out with a hideous rage. There was no sign of an artifact or anything of that nature on his person, so what he had taken was either small or incorporeal.

 **Elénaril. Waterdeep.**

Just before she could seize the creature with her fangs, he vanished through the strange portal. Aly started suddenly as she was jerked back to her real body. Her own skin felt oddly uncomfortable for a few moments as her mind readjusted to having only two legs and two arms, and none of the burning, predatory rage she had felt as she chased the man in her vision. She was no expert, but she was willing to bet that she had just witnessed all of that from the inside of a bebilith, sharing its consciousness. Now she needed to bathe just to get rid of this crawling, foul sensation. She became aware of the fact that she was slumped limply in armored arms. Only one person held her so carefully: Sabal.

"Are you alright, Aly?" the wilder asked, forcing herself not to show the concern she felt.

"The thief was a half-elf wearing a symbol of Asmodeus," the mage said, trying to stand on her own two feet despite the weakness in her legs. Her lover reluctantly helped her right herself even though the amber-eyed drowess would have much preferred continuing to hold onto Aly. "I think...I think his name was Elénaril. The vision suggested that he was bound for a place called Waterdeep. He escaped through a portal, though likely not one that led directly to any city. Too dangerous."

Yvonnel pursed her lips, the very picture of displeasure. "We will discuss this in private," she said meaningfully, motioning for Aly and Sabal to follow her out into the halls. Not a word passed between them, though worried amber eyes did for a second catch silver. Alystin shook her head to communicate that now was not the time to discuss her health.

The three walked together back to House Druu'giir's palatial estate, passing through thick walls and heavy gates to reach the beautiful villa. It was not the visible stronghold that some other houses presented to the world, but that was a deceptive sort of apparent vulnerability. In reality, the place was easily defensible and could easily serve as a beautiful trap for attacking forces. Statues of Matron Mothers long dead looked impassively out into the air above their heads, each one armed and capable of coming to life with enchantments if their assistance was needed. They were not without their scars, but they had largely been restored after House Kenafin's disastrous attack. Aly did not pity her family despite their awful fate. Those blood ties had been cut by cruelty long before the august power of Kenafin came crashing down. She was glad they were gone.

Yvonnel spoke only once they were safely ensconced in their quarters and behind powerful wards of silence. "Waterdeep is a surface city," the Revered Daughter said, taking a seat without invitation. It was a move that surprised no one in the room. After all, the woman had the authority to do as she pleased, even here in the home terrain of a Matron Mother. "You will be pursuing this thief into hostile territory. There are many forces under the sun that would see us ruined utterly, including the masters of this creature."

Alystin and Sabal exchanged a wordless look. Neither of them were happy about the idea of going to the surface, despite Aly's history as a follower of Eilistraee. She had always been uncomfortable around those races not native to the Underdark, largely because of inexperience with them. She could not predict how they would act and that frightened her. Sabal would probably be fine, so long as she met nothing that she couldn't kill. However, the wilder had no grasp of surface tongues at all. That would make things challenging. The mage was under no illusion that she would be able to persuade her lover to stay. Honestly? She was grateful that she had Sabal watching her back. "We have no choice," Aly said, sitting down as well. Instead of joining her, Sabal started to pace back and forth restlessly in front of the window, like a caged panther. "An archdevil like Asmodeus coming into possession of any knowledge of demons or the Abyss can only be dangerous to the Spider Queen and the Lady of Sacrifice. What if it's something that gives him a leg up in the war?"

The enmity between devils and demons was no secret to anyone. It was only strange to be involved with planar politics, though perhaps it was because the move was so brazen and even foolhardy. It was one thing to war with demon lords. To probe the defenses of a greater deity was nigh suicidal.

Sabal let out a sharp exhale. "He is powerful if he can pierce the darkness of the Demonweb and escape unscathed. Or very, very fortunate," she said. Aly could hear a subtle note of frustration, something that even Yvonnel likely didn't detect. No one knew the wilder better than her lover. Sabal did not like the idea of going up to the surface.

"Whatever the case, we need to find him as soon as possible. Though I very much suspect it will take a considerable amount of time," Yvonnel said as she stood up. "I expect you two to leave tomorrow. I'll see about finding you both equipment with less of a drow look. There is an entrance not far from Menzoberranzan that leads up to the Spine of the World."

The priestess left without bothering with a proper farewell, which didn't trouble either of them. Yvonnel was about to be a very busy woman arranging everything they would need on a very short timetable.

"You look unhappy," Alystin said. She stood up and went over to her lover, stalling the inquisitor's restless movements by slipping arms around that familiar armored form. She was used to the cold press of metal and hardened leather. It was comforting in a way, though not nearly as pleasant as the sensation of Sabal's body against hers without such barriers. "This will be fine, Sabal. We won't be up there long."

"A minute is too long," Sabal said darkly, even as her arms automatically came up to surround Aly's shoulders. She had been aboveground once, hunting followers of the Dark Maiden. It was not a visit she had cherished: the world above was loud and bright, even in mere moonlight, when compared to the serenity and dark of the Night Beneath. She did not find in it the beauty that Eilistraee's faithful saw. She much preferred the harshness of her homeland. The daylight was a nauseating concept as well. Neither of them had ever dared to venture out beneath the sun, though both knew it was possible to become accustomed to the light. "What of the dangers? The surface is thick with creatures that would slay a drow in a heartbeat."

"The same can be said of the Underdark, _d'anthe_ ," Alystin said with a hint of amusement. "We live in a dangerous world, beneath the ground and above the ground. As long as I have you with me, everything will be fine." She rested her forehead against Sabal's pauldron. "Trust me."

Sabal was quiet for a long moment. Finally, she sighed. There was a pounding in her temples as she struggled against the fury she felt when she even considered Alystin at the mercy of unknown threats. If she argued too much, she knew that she wouldn't be allowed to come. "I do," she murmured. "But do not expect me to like it."

"Of course not," Aly said. "We'll need disguises, Sabal. And allies."

"I do not want to go as other than I am," the inquisitor said stubbornly, tightening her hold on Aly slightly. "Let the surface world think what it wills."

"That will make things more difficult," the mage warned, even though she knew this was something that Sabal wouldn't want to budge on. It was going to be more than enough of a challenge to part the inquisitor from her weapon and armor in favor of a more disguised set, particularly her sword. It was probably best to concede on this battle, at least for the moment.

"Perhaps, but such things can be remedied by the judicious application of force," Sabal muttered. She knew she would have no problem punching faces flat if it meant she could walk undisguised.

"Whatever suits you," Aly said. "I'll disguise myself. One drow will prompt fewer questions than two."

Sabal looked distinctly disappointed. "I will miss seeing your face," she murmured, moving her hand to touch Alystin's cheek. She stroked one cheekbone with her thumb and watched as the wizard's silver eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

"In private, I will be myself," the mage promised. "Now, about allies. I know of a good place to begin. There is a dwarven warrior named Storunn Ironarm who I know through Lirayne Duskryn. He makes frequent trips up to the surface and could be a great help as a guide. He is a shield dwarf, so he'll likely be quite wary of you, but I think you have a certain charm that he might actually grow to like."

"Only for you," Sabal murmured. "Fine, so we talk to this Storunn. Do we have anywhere else to turn?"

"If we leave with a caravan, we may be able to recruit a guard or shady character. There will also be people who will want to help out of the goodness of their hearts once they find out we're chasing a servant of Asmodeus...as long as they don't find out who we're working for," Aly said. "Not that I trust anyone with supposedly altruistic motivations. There's always some angle."

Sabal made a noise of discontent, but she didn't voice a protest. Instead, she let her hands slide down Aly's sides to her hips, gently pulling her in tighter. It had to be a careful movement, because it was easy to bruise or scratch with armor, particularly since her gauntlets' fingers ended in sharp points. "A good beginning," she said, voice just a touch lower in pitch. "Yvonnel will have more advice tomorrow. Until then, let me show you how much I missed you when I was out in the Wilds."

Alystin smiled and brushed her lips along her lover's jawline. "Mmm, I like the sound of that," she said before claiming the wilder's lips in a kiss. They would have precious little time like this out on the road, an unpleasant distance necessary to protect both of them. Sabal tended not to express affection around others for precisely that reason: defense. It would expose a chink in their armor through which a foe could attack. The mage started to methodically unbuckle Sabal's armor. "Why don't we take a bath? Might be fun."

"I—" Sabal bit off her words at the sound of another knock and glared over at the door as it opened. She didn't care that it was Nedelyne herself: the Matron had just made herself a significant irritation and they'd known each other for so long that a certain informality was virtually expected. "Go away."

"You're getting crotchety as you get older, A'Daragon," Nede said almost impishly, stepping in. "I'd hate to see you at a thousand. I just got wind of what happened at the temple. Yvonnel is being her normal inscrutable self. How are you after all that, Aly?"

"I was about to be a lot better," the wizard said with an irritated sigh, reluctantly disentangling herself from Sabal. "We're leaving tomorrow for the surface. Something was stolen from Lloth and we're going to either recover or destroy it. Hopefully recover."

"Ah," the drow cleric said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. "How exciting. Yvonnel did mention something about a trip, but if you're going up to the surface... I may be able to help. I have some maps of the tunnels and the area above ground that are unknown to Menzoberranzan at large. They belong—well, belonged—to House Baenre, but my wonderful Patron managed to acquire them covertly."

"You interrupted to tell us about maps?" Sabal said irritably. She touched her forehead to Aly's and closed her eyes, calming herself down. Her patience was thin at the moment, but Nedelyne was her only other true friend besides Aly, so she didn't want to lash out.

"Don't sulk. It's unbecoming of a woman of your position, Inquisitor," Nede said with amusement. "I also came to warn you. I did some scrying of my own after I had a few words with Yvonnel. The surfacers—faeries, mostly—have caught wind of something heading their way and they've mobilized some of their people in preparation. Skullport is full of spies and I advise you to take a route through the Spine of the World. I don't know if the stirrings that tipped them off were infernal or abyssal, but it will be problematic."

Sabal nodded, unbuckling her armor. She was grateful to get that warning as soon as possible despite the intrusion. It meant that she could spend the day preparing her equipment for combat against paladins and the like.

Alystin looked thoughtful. "It's possible that we might be able to use that. Make them into a distraction while we grab whatever the thief stole and run back below ground or something to that effect."

"Dangerous," the inquisitor commented as she laid out her armor on the living room floor piece by piece. "But possible."

"I thought you would appreciate an early warning. I'll see if I can dig up anything else useful," Nede said before pushing off of the wall and sauntering back to the door. "Have fun, you two."

Before Aly could complain about the intrusion, she was swept off her feet from behind. "You owe me a bath," Sabal said, amber eyes looking particularly intense at the moment as she smiled at the mage now held in her arms. It was part of her wild nature to be ruled by passions, and that was never more true than when she was with the wizard.

Alystin linked her arms around Sabal's neck and tilted her head so that she could run her tongue along the scar across her lover's throat. It was a promise of things to come that made Sabal shiver. Aly had more on her mind than bathing and she knew the same was true of the inquisitor. "My pleasure, _ussta ssin_ ," the wizard murmured with eyes alight.

* * *

Storunn eyed his two new traveling companions with a healthy amount of caution. Lirayne had vouched for Alystin and he'd even met the mage on several occasions. It was the feeling he got around the other drowess that made him uncomfortable, like he was dealing with a wild animal barely restrained by some invisible chain. That one was dangerous, and not so thoughtful or considerate as the noble. Sabal had too many rough, sharp edges for Storunn to be comfortable with her. "Yer friend don't seem real friendly," the dwarf said, jerking his head at Sabal. He was next to Aly, helping her secure their packs on the backs of their riding lizards. They were useful creatures here in the depths of the Underdark with their ability to both eat anything and bear weight. Storunn had grown up too close to the surface to really encounter such sturdy, short-tempered creatures. A baleful yellow eye glared at him as the creature turned its head to regard the shield dwarf. The only person they seemed timid around was Sabal, which only reinforced the dwarf's view of her.

"Sabal? She's not what I would call warm on first approach, no," Alystin admitted without qualm as she lashed her staff to her pack. She wouldn't really need it unless they got into a fight, and even then she could cast without it. "But she will have your back in any fight we get into, even if she is...displeased...at the moment. Give her some time. She'll come around."

Aly looked over to see amber eyes glaring at the pair of them. Sabal did not look amused by being the topic of discussion. The scarred drowess had been in a thunderous mood since they had arrived at Menzoberranzan's western gate. Rather than beginning their preparations at House Druu'giir or the barracks of the Yath'Abban, it had been decided that they would group together at the gates after they'd packed their bags individually. Sabal was buckling on her new armor, dark leather and dull adamantite scale meshing together in web-like patterns. Her concession to the mission was the absence of a symbol of Lloth, as Yvonnel didn't think drow armor would stand out for the time they remained in the Underdark. On the surface, she could acquire a new, human or elven set. The true battle was still being waged viciously between the inquisitor and Yvonnel, albeit in tones so hushed that Aly and Storunn couldn't hear. Alystin didn't need to, not after knowing Sabal for so long. This was about her sword, or as Sabal would have put it, Xullae's sword. The old battle-blade was scarred beyond belief, its rayskin grip worn away to almost smoothness despite the fact that it had been redone hundreds of times, but the symbol of Lloth worked into the metal where blade and crosshilt was as bold as the day it had been forged. The unpolished mithril of the hilt had to be smoked every now and again to hide the bright spots where contact with other blades had actually given the metal a shine. Even the simple onyx stone set into the pommel was chipped from impact with armored heads.

It was the one possession that Sabal prized above all others, dearer to her than anything else she owned. Yvonnel would have found it a much easier task if she were to pry it out of cold, dead fingers. Aly wanted to offer to disguise it, but she couldn't think of a good way to maintain that. If she had a few weeks and plenty of spell components, maybe. She approached her lover, noting the way Sabal practically bristled with anger. The argument had been raging for well over ten minutes, though it was clearly starting to reach critical mass. Both the inquisitor and the priestess had squared off, their expressions dark.

"...it puts you at risk, Sabal. It puts Aly at risk. Is that what you want?" Yvonnel was saying in a reasonable tone as Alystin came over, even though the cleric looked about ready to tear into Sabal with her fingernails. The priestess knew that demanding anything right now would only make things worse. "Traveling openly as a drow is one problem of its own. Don't complicate that with the problem that is being a worshiper of Lloth away from our realms."

"It has been with me in every battle since my first," Sabal argued, staying away from her true objection. She didn't want to ever give up anything that connected her to the woman who might as well have been her mother. It was the symbol of the legacy that had been passed down to her, the duty that rested now on her shoulders. Still, she was starting to budge and the cleric knew it.

Sabal didn't have to give her real reason for Yvonnel to know what it was. The Revered Daughter knew the wilder almost as well as Aly did and interacted with Sabal while on duty almost constantly. "It will be held for safe-keeping, Sabal. No one will harm it. If you do not trust me to secure it, then I will contact Matron Nedelyne. Do what is best for your mission and Alystin."

The inquisitor bared her teeth in a wordless snarl, but then she looked over at Aly. Her amber eyes were evaluating and just a touch worried. She unbuckled her swordbelt and slid the blade in its scabbard off the belt. "If it is so much as scratched, I will find you," Sabal said in a not so subtle threat, handing it carefully over to Yvonnel as if it were made of glass.

"Honestly, would you even be able to tell?" the priestess said a little irritably. She did, however, wrap the blade in black spidersilk with an attentive air. It was enough delicate handling that it seemed to put the undeniably tense inquisitor somewhat at ease. She was still probably going to be infuriated for the next few days, but she was reassured all the same. Yvonnel set it down and pulled out another sheathed blade, wrapped in canvas.

There was something beautiful about even a simple sword, Alystin decided as she saw Sabal slip the blade free to examine it. It was not as embellished or expensive as the weapon of a noble, but it possessed a quality of its own. The smoked mithril blade tapered from a keen point to a simple silver crosshilt, a rayskin grip with a twisted wire wrapped around it, and a silver scent-stopper pommel engraved with a single, half-open eye. It was a subtle nod to the Yath'Abban. Aly knew that the design would at least make Sabal happy. She liked her weapons and armor as simple as possible. It was lovely, efficient, elegant, and designed to perform its intended purpose perfectly...much like its new owner, as far as Aly was concerned.

Sabal checked the balance and turned the weapon over in her hands. It had a good feeling, she had to admit. It was obviously designed with the same pattern as all other Yath'Abban swords, its weight and edge comparable to her own. That was one thing she appreciated about her order: their weapons might have differed cosmetically, but each one had a base design identical to all other weapons of that type in use by the Yath'Abban. "It will do. Thank you, Revered Yvonnel," Sabal said quietly. She was still angry, but she knew life was unfair—and she certainly knew better than to bite this particular hand.

"Good," Yvonnel said before turning her gaze to Aly. She still had some reservations about the wizard, though she never told Sabal that. The Revered Daughter was a practiced enough liar that her skepticism didn't show. The only way the wilder might have caught wind of it would have been by using her powers, and Sabal wasn't foolish enough to try. "Was there anything else you needed? The caravan is coming now, so in a few minutes you will be able to fall in with them."

"I think we have everything," Aly said.

"Good. This is for you, from Matron Nedelyne," Yvonnel said, holding a ring out to Alystin. The wizard knew what it was. She'd asked for a ring of disguise because she hadn't been allowed the time to craft one of her own. It would take a few weeks before she could layer enough enchantments over this one to disguise its nature, but that would hardly be impossible.

Aly slipped the ring on and her form shimmered for a moment. When the effect faded, she was no longer an ebon-skinned drow. Her features had more roundness to them and were unmistakably human. She was still slender like an elf or a human girl, but the transformation was marked. Her white hair was now a rich brown and her skin was ashen white, but her silver eyes had at least stayed the same. That and her voice would be the only indication of who she was. There was a strange, almost pained look on Sabal's face when Aly turned to regard her lover. It was only there for a fraction of a second, then gone. It was something that would come up when they were alone in private, the wizard knew. "How do I look?" she asked.

"Human," Sabal said, sliding her belt through the loop of the scabbard before belting it back on. She knew she did not need to say that she far preferred Aly as herself—the wizard would know that already. This was an unpleasant necessity.

"Then that's a success," Alystin said. If Nede's gift was as effective as she hoped, this would shield her from the eyes of Asmodeus's followers, though likely not more powerful devils. A spell or potion of polymorph would have to be enough there.

"I have things to attend to," Yvonnel said with a sigh. She wasn't looking forward to dealing with House Baenre again, but someone with status had to do it. Ever since the apparition in the temple, the Matron Mother began poking her nose into Church business. Yvonnel knew she would be, in the very near future, telling Quenthel as politely as possible to fuck off. "But...good luck. You will need it."

"Your vote of confidence fills me with pride," Sabal said dryly. It earned her a warning glare from the priestess, but no retaliation. Everyone knew it was just the wilder's displeasure with her situation coming out in a less hostile way. It was for the best to just leave it lie.

"One of these days, she's going to slap you," Aly commented once Yvonnel was safely out of earshot.

Sabal shrugged. The idea didn't really upset her. Yvonnel had done it before, though for her own good rather than out of frustration.

Meanwhile, Storunn had finished up with the packs and clambered up onto the back of his riding beast. The lizard shifted underneath him, clearly not certain how it was going to handle a dwarf in heavy armor. It obviously wanted to shake him off, but Sabal had arrived just in time to batter it into submission with just her glare. Aly smothered a laugh with one hand before swinging up into the saddle. "Comfortable, Storunn?"

"I've had worse, lass," the dwarf grunted, smoothing a hand over his braided beard. "Let's just get moving, aye? Oh, and I'd wager ye'd rather not tell folks what ye be."

"Correct," Aly confirmed. "No need to draw additional suspicion. Sabal will be more than adequate when it comes to acquiring ire. Though better now that she doesn't look like an inquisitor."

The only thing Sabal had kept of her uniform was her crimson sash, something that wasn't too out of place. It looked fine enough for the servant of a noble, which Aly still very much appeared to be by her clothes. Those roles, of bodyguard and mistress, were the goals for their charade. Even Storunn didn't know that they were lovers and Alystin intended to keep it that way for as long as possible, hopefully for the whole duration of the trip. The last thing she wanted was for Storunn to let something slip to dangerous souls. Sabal shrouded the lower half of her face with dark fabric and made certain her white hair was all tucked back before pulling up her hood. It was her concession to Aly that she at least make it more difficult to ascertain her race from a distance.

"So ye plan to do a bit o' recruitin'?" the dwarf ventured as they approached the bustling trade caravan. There was such a mixture of non-drow races that they didn't even remotely stand out, though that likely would have been different if Sabal were completely obvious. Duergar gave him glares now and then when he passed them by, but the more timid svirfneblin seemed friendly enough. The hired guards were mostly hobgoblins and orcs, brutish figures in rough armor with lethal looking weapons. Storunn talked to Aly almost solely, mostly because Sabal was sinking into a sullen silence up on point. Whatever danger approached from the front would have to make its way through the amber-eyed drowess. Storunn didn't envy the poor sod who tried that.

"Hopefully," Alystin said. She wasn't certain she would be comfortable interacting with the lesser races, but she needed to at least pretend she was. After all, she was human and not drow right now. "We need more allies. Asmodeus is a powerful fiend and his servants will have influence in Waterdeep, no matter how noble the city."

Storunn chuckled a little bit, amused by the drowess's lack of knowledge regarding the surface. "Waterdeep's a lot of things, lass, but noble ain't one of them."

* * *

 _D'anthe_ \- dear

 _Ussta ssin_ \- my beauty


	2. Recruitment

After the first week of travel, Storunn started to relax. Sabal was thawing a little and becoming more tolerable to be around, even if she was still snappish and cold as ice the moment someone pressed too hard on a boundary. Alystin was the glue that held the three of them together, keeping the peace. The dwarf was impressed by her control over the scarred warrior. The amber-eyed drowess kept her distance from the other members of the caravan, but plenty of people engaged Aly in conversation. She was pretty for a human, the barest hints of elven beauty hidden in her face, and she seemed nice enough despite her true nature. Aly was a drow who knew intimidation was not her strong suit, so she aimed for charm. There was only one other human that they'd seen with the caravan, and he almost immediately gravitated towards Aly. The pair chatted for much of the week and were well on their way to at least a friendly acquaintanceship. Storunn had explained the holy symbol the man carried to his companions: Sune, goddess of love. The lad was certainly amiable, a welcome trait even if an unsettling one here in the Night Beneath.

"So what brings ye down to the depths, priest?" Storunn asked as they sat around a small, enchanted campfire that Aly had summoned up. Sabal was sitting up above and a short distance away on a rock ledge, both to save her eyes and to keep watch.

Camran's vocation had stunned Aly and Sabal. He seemed so...gentle, for a cleric. And he was male, something Alystin had only heard of among the clergy of Eilistraee and Vhaeraun. Even then, she had never actually seen it herself. She just knew that it was possible. It was unsettling. She didn't know how to address him—she was not going to be deferrential to a male—and she certainly didn't know what to expect. She settled for a friendly charm, or at least as friendly as drow got with outlanders. Sabal actually seemed to be handling it better, or at least her rules were more clear-cut: she treated him like she would any male and watched him like a hawk.

"A vision," the priest admitted. He was probably in his early twenties if Storunn had to guess. Camran was a plain young man with friendly hazel eyes and short sandy hair, a neatly trimmed beard showing his age as an adult. He dressed in a plain brown robe and seemed completely without duplicity. It was unnerving to the drow, but to the dwarf it was a breath of fresh air. The boy reminded him a bit of his old friend Galen.

"A vision?" Aly said curiously.

Camran nodded. "I saw a beautiful garden destroyed completely, burned with brimstone and wreathed in foul smoke," he said, looking troubled. "There were horrible creatures running around me and I could hear a woman begging for help. They were fiends, I am sure of it. I think...I hope I am wrong, but I think the woman was Lady Firehair. Sune. Ever since then, I have seen visions of the darkness and the city shrouded in shadow—Menzoberranzan. I recognized it once I laid eyes on it. I was told there would be allies here, but so far I have found none."

"You are fortunate that the drow did not kill you on sight," Alystin said. She offered him a small smile. "But I think we might be able to help each other, Camran. We are hunting devils ourselves, or at least their servants."

His whole aspect brightened. "Truly?" he said, sounding relieved. They were a ways away from the other campfires, so there was little danger of being overheard. "You and your friends seem capable, Aly. Would you permit me to travel with you?"

"We'e be delighted to have you," Aly said before standing up. "I'm going to go check on our silent sentinel."

"Of course," Camran said. He had barely exchanged two words with the hooded woman, but he had been around her enough to get a sense for her manner. Every movement and motion was purposeful and graceful. Every word, no matter how brief and clipped, was clear despite an exotic accent that he had heard before: Menzoberranzan's. He was not certain if she was a former slave, a mercenary, or a drow, but she had spent much time in the city to have acquired their way of speaking. Alystin had it too, but in a much milder way, which suggested that the wizard had been down her a while. A few times he had caught glimpse of narrowed amber eyes beneath the woman's hood. She was watching him, of that he could be certain. Her scrutiny only intensified every time he was around the wizard. He had told Aly once in the week that she was fortunate to have someone watching over her so intently. It made the mage laugh.

 _"Sabal has always been overprotective," the wizard said with amusement. "She worries so."_

Camran watched as their mage approached the figure in armor perched on the rock ledge. "Have they known each other long?" he asked Storunn.

"Aye," the dwarf said. That much he had picked up on. "Since Aly was just a gel, I'd wager. Reckon she's the only one who can talk to Sabal without getting pricked by those thorns."

Camran frowned a little. "I haven't been cruel to her, have I?" he asked.

"Nah," Storunn said with a shake of his head. "Like that with everyone."

At the vantage point, Aly sat down next to Sabal, their shoulders almost touching. Nothing would have made the wilder happier than being able to put an arm around her lover and kiss her forehead. Unfortunately, they had an audience. Instead, the drowess reached out subtly and found the mage's hand, covering it with her own. "I take it you made the offer," Sabal murmured.

"Actually, he asked. Your thoughts on the matter?"

The inquisitor shifted slightly, turning just a touch to regard Alystin. The shrouding around her face was pulled down, revealing her sharp features. "I have felt no malice or deception from him in all the time he has been in my presence," Sabal said reluctantly. She tipped her head back, looking up at the cavern ceiling. "Were he to learn of our true motives, he might turn upon us. Short of that, however, I do not see him attempting to do harm."

"Wonderful," Aly said, moving as if to stand.

She was stopped by a slight tightening of Sabal's grip and an almost sorrowful, "Aly." When the wizard looked over, she could see loneliness etched into Sabal's features. Their separation was not easy on the inquisitor. It might have been less painful if Aly weren't there at all, because then she could harden her heart to the notion of being alone. Here, seeing Aly always just out of reach? It stung. There was no chance that it would ease, either, not when they were headed into what was very much enemy territory.

"I know. We'll be at an inn soon, Sabal. Just one more week to Gracklstugh," Aly said reassuringly. It was easy to forget how strongly the wilder was affected by her own emotions. In all of this uncertainty, of course she wanted to find security in her lover. It was either that or cling to the duties of an inquisitor, which would probably be slightly problematic with their new addition to the group. No wonder the mage's lover had been so prickly since they left Menzoberranzan.

"Of course," Sabal said in an even tone, as if she had never been troubled. She let go of Aly's hand. "Sorry."

The wizard flashed her a quick smile before standing up and returning to the others. The words of their conversation were a bit indistinct by the time the sound reached Sabal, but the tone was easily readable for someone as adept as the inquisitor. The amber-eyed drowess brooded silently up on her perch, eyes narrowed as she hunted for any sign of movement in the darkness. This cavern was a barren one, broken only by the flow of a small stream as it tunneled through the rock in one wall, flowed open through its channel, and vanished into a crack in the wall on the other side. After a long half hour, her intense vigilance was rewarded by a barely perceptible movement. Something was trying to watch the camp, but it had not spotted the drowess where she blended into shadow.

Sabal rose to her feet as quietly as possible and began a slow, circuitous approach to the flash of movement she had seen. She crouched down and moved so quietly that it was almost soundless, the whispering of her armor the only thing that might give her away...provided it could be distinguished from the sound of the rushing water. Minutes dragged by with an agonizing slowness as she crept along the wall. Finally, she could see it with a clear line of view. An imp, a lesser devil. The spindly, small, red-skinned figure crouched on a rock with its horned head ducked low and its leathery wings furled. The stinger looked threatening, but she was confident that she could handle it without a problem. Sabal waited until its attention was focused on the small group by the fire. Then, she sprang.

The creature let out a shrill little shriek—albeit a muffled one—the moment her gauntleted hand seized it by its face, holding its jaw so it couldn't bite. Her other hand seized its stinger by the segment of tail just beneath the bulb. It flailed, claws scratching across armor without doing any actual damage. It struggled fiercely, but ultimately very much in vain.

She might have asked it who sent it if she didn't think the creature would lie through its teeth. So instead of politely conversing, she drove straight into its mind without a second thought. The bitterness and evil rolled off her defenses and she was granted visions even as the creature let out those muffled shrieks and struggled more intensely.

 _...the smell of pine...a great dome of azure above broken up by wisps of white...fire, smoke, blood, steel...the screaming never ends..."Find them!" in a commanding baritone voice...a giant city on the sea...bright blue, beautiful eyes...a hawkish face with dark eyebrows and an expressive mouth...frustration and anger born of being bound and compelled..._

Sabal blinked, coming back to herself. She slammed the imp hard against the rock a few times until it stopped moving, then drew her dagger and plunged it through the creature's head. She dared not interrogate the creature, lest it have time to warn its master. She had a face now. A human man, perhaps not their thief, but certainly someone associated with him. She wrenched her dagger free and rinsed it off in the stream. The spatters of devil blood were easy to wipe off her armor.

"Sabal!" Storunn bellowed from the camp. "It's my watch, lass. Where be ye?"

The inquisitor pulled up the shrouding over her face and sauntered out of the darkness. "Here," she said with a hint of boredom in her tone that she didn't really feel. Her mind was whirring as she tried to process all of those fragmented thoughts. If she saw this dark-haired man, she would know him. Finding him would be the trick. She thought about snapping at Storunn for calling her 'lass', but decided it wasn't worth it. The dwarf was tolerable for the most part, even if he clearly didn't trust her. The feeling was mutual.

Alystin could hear something thoughtful in that tone, but she didn't say anything as Sabal prowled over to her bedroll and started slowly stripping off her armor. The mage wanted to go help her, but that might have prompted questions better left unanswered, particularly since Aly knew her hands had a tendency to wander across Sabal's body every time she helped. "Ye ought to be sleepin'," Storunn said as he walked past Aly. "Yer watch is last, but it's still a watch."

She sighed, but nodded and lay down on her bedroll. It felt altogether too empty. She turned her head to watch Sabal finish taking off her armor. With a careful attentiveness, Sabal checked her armor for any sign of damage or rust despite the fact that there had been no combat through the day. The wizard closed her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts. Her native curiosity arose as she contemplated their situation. What, exactly, had been stolen from Lloth? Why did the Lady of Sacrifice care? Who were these followers of Asmodeus? What was Waterdeep even like? She had a feeling that the surface's civilian denizens would be as dangerous as their foes themselves.

Aly fell asleep in only a few minutes despite the slight chill that settled in her body. Her thoughts could wait until they were on the move again.

She was still asleep when Camran approached Sabal cautiously, not wanting to provoke the woman by startling her. His concern was unfounded. There was no way he could walk quietly enough to surprise the perceptive drowess. "I wanted to speak with you," the priest said softly. He was keeping his voice low so he didn't startle Alystin.

"Speak, then," Sabal said in a neutral tone. It wasn't hostile or irritated, so he'd apparently gotten her at the right time. She seemed more focused on her armor than on him as she carefully oiled the joints so they would continue to make no sound when they bent.

"We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. I am sorry if I have given you offense," Camran said, sitting down on an outcropping of stone near her. For the first time, he got a glimpse of her face in the firelight. There was no mistaking that ebony skin: a drow. Camran had only spent a day in Menzoberranzan and never had he been given the opportunity to speak to one of them. He knew them solely by their reputation, which was probably why he flinched. "You are a dark elf!"

Sabal pulled back her hood, revealing her scarred face. White hair fell into the way of one amber eye, but the other was focused on him intently. "Yes," she said. "Will that be a problem, human?"

He shook his head. "No," he said quickly. "I had just thought...well...you are so friendly with Aly and she is a human, so I assumed you might have been of another race. Drow did not strike me as a people inclined to be charitable towards humans."

The inquisitor laughed. "There is no charity to it," she said with amusement. "Alystin is a very capable mage. We have a mutually beneficial relationship."

"Ah," Camran said, relieved that he had not offended the prickly drowess. Her race explained a great deal of her temperament, at least in his mind. Those scars too spoke of a life of combat and conflict. Perhaps she had even raided the surface world. He tried not to think about that. Her gaze was not what he would call friendly, though it was at present amused. "I had hoped that we could be friends, as we are going to be traveling companions."

"Look to the dwarf if you would like a friend," Sabal said bluntly. She rarely extended any amount of trust to any cleric and she certainly wasn't going to put her faith in some rivvil boy who bumbled through the world throwing friendship blindly to everyone he met. "I am not here to be sociable."

Camran was taken aback a little by being so casually rebuffed. Alystin's bodyguard was not nearly as pleasant as her mistress, though she was not being actively nasty. He already considered the human woman to be a friend. Her drow was apparently not so amiable. Perhaps it shouldn't have been a surprise, though, considering the aloof nature of the drow. He had never heard them described as being warm. Bloodthirsty, arrogant, cruel, treacherous, and evil were the more usual terms. It surprised him that Aly trusted this one. Perhaps she had saved the drow's life, if the creature even appreciated that much. "We should at least be tolerable to each other if we are going to travel together," he said, trying to repeat the sentiment. He didn't want to be given the cold shoulder if he could avoid it.

"And I am tolerating your presence," Sabal said, her amber eyes studying him fiercely. They reminded him of animal eyes, predatory eyes. It was as much the way they examined him as if hunting for a weakness as it was the color. "I am, for the moment, your ally. Be content with this."

The words that stuck out in Camran's mind were 'for the moment'. His stomach churned uneasily at the knowledge that the drowess considered such a thing so...temporary. Still, he held out hope that he could perhaps change her mind with time. All the same, when he returned to his bedroll, he did not sleep easily.

* * *

Gracklstugh was filthy, as far as Sabal was concerned. The air reeked of coal and hot metal as the great infernal forges belched smoke into the cacophonous air, the ringing of hammers and grind of machinery broken up only by the begging and screaming of slaves. Crippled creatures cast to the wayside now begged in the street for survival, but they recieved no coin and no attention from the stone-faced duergar who tromped down avenues encrusted with a layer of grime and soot deposited over the course of centuries. The drowess's lip curled with contempt. She was not hooded here, if only because the duergar were not likely to care. The surface would likely be a different story.

"This is an evil place," Camran murmured. The parts of Menzoberranzan he had seen were better than this, though he felt that way only because he did not know that the population of beggars and homeless was kept down by the drow who hunted them for sport. Nor had he seen the handiwork displayed in the studios of torturers or the remains of sacrifices from the Fane fed to beasts of all varieties...including the humanoid kind.

"Aye," Storunn said. He had a better grasp of Menzoberranzan's true nature, but he wasn't about to bring it up. "Plenty o' 'em down in the real deep."

"The dwarves are not—"

"They're duergar, lad," Storunn said with a shrug. He looked over at Aly as they started through the streets. Sabal was busy keeping an eye out for threats as they moved through streets that were not friendly to them. Humans were potential slaves, shield dwarves were hated foes, and a drow was a danger of the utmost variety, even a non-hostile one. "What's the plan, lass?"

"After we find an inn? I intended to visit the prison. We cannot expect the average duergar to aid us, but a renegade might be more inclined towards the light. Or we could find another outlander. We need someone who is skilled in a more shadowy way: a thief, a rogue," Alystin said. She gave them a small smile. "I am not exactly a dab hand with a lock."

"I am not sure I find this idea particularly wise," Camran said a bit uncomfortably. "Wouldn't the duergar object to us liberating their prisoner?"

"Liberating, certainly," Sabal said from his other side, adjusting her sword when she saw a duergar paying too close of attention. He found something else to look at remarkably quickly. "But the duergar are not averse to selling their captives and criminals alike."

"A slave?" Camran said, swallowing uncomfortably. He wasn't exactly scandalized by Sabal's comment. It sounded like something a drowess would say. The drow were easily as bad as the duergar in that respect, if not worse. He just hadn't thought that Alystin would allow it.

"An ally," Alystin said firmly. She knew that owning a slave would not secure the aid of the creature in any way, shape, or form. Not without a lot of breaking that they really didn't have the time for. She knew she would much rather deal with them on a level playing field, as alien as that was to many drow. Sabal would likely have no objections, considering her own experience with being bound. "I have no intention of keeping them in servitude."

Camran relaxed a little, relieved that his assessment of the wizard's character had not been incorrect. He glanced over at Sabal to gauge her reaction to this information, but she seemed as impassive as ever. It frustrated the priest a little. He was normally good at reading faces, but that scarred, immobile one refused to give any hints of what went on behind those amber eyes. Almost as if she was aware of his scrutiny—and she likely was—Sabal glanced over at him. The drowess seemed in a surprisingly good mood now that they were in a city, though it was barely noticeable.

It took them only a little while to find an inn, a small place called the Red Earth. The walls inside were lined with a reddish-brown clay and the floor was covered in sawdust to keep people from slipping. The light was very dim, but present, so Camran could see somewhat with the aid of a silver ring that granted him only lowlight vision. He had been relying on a conjured light out in the wilds, but Gracklstugh was at least lit somewhat by the great forges. The place smelled like stale ale and smoke, but it was reasonably clean for a wayfarer's inn. It was not to the quality that Aly was accustomed to, but she didn't say anything even though her nose wrinkled slightly at the odor of one of the customers who wafted too close.

The quality of the rooms was a pleasant surprise. They were simple, but they were clean and there was hot water for baths. Camran took the opportunity to trim his beard and emerged again from his room looking neat and civilized. Storunn waited downstairs with Sabal, who had conjured up about five feet of space on all sides among the crowd, just with her mere presence. Once Alystin had deposited her supplies in her room—they would be doubling up, which no one had bothered to raise objection to—she rejoined them. "Shall we?" she said once the group had reassembled.

The only thing grimmer and darker than the city proper was their prison. Storunn followed Alystin and Sabal down dark steps almost an hour later, looking uncomfortably over his shoulder at the duergar guards. Camran seemed just as uncomfortable, staying very close to his conjured light. The duergar weren't happy about the glow, but they had not voiced their displeasure. The grey dwarf leading them was Thangardt Firehand, a wizard of all things. His many rings glimmered in the dimness, catching the light.

"We do have a thief," Thangardt was explaining to Aly. The two of them had chatted about arcane principles most of the way here, seeming almost amiable and certainly polite. "A wretched little halfling we managed to track down after he and his partner stole from Laird Durna. From what I understand, Weltha—our head jailor—had to break his leg to stop him from running. He made quick work of the locks, but not of Weltha. It takes more than a dagger to render a woman of her caliber helpless."

"How unpleasant," Aly said with a frown. "Is it still broken?"

"I would assume so," Thangardt said with a shrug. He opened the last door. "Weltha, I have visitors for you! They're here to buy the halfling."

"Right enough," a coarse voice called up from the bottom of the stairs. "Off with ya, Firehand. I'm sure the laird has other things what need doing. Come on down, the four of ya. Bit pastier than I reckoned, 'cept for the drow."

As he descended, Storunn recieved a murderous glare from a large, bald duergar woman in unpolished armor, a wicked looking scourge looped around her over her belt. It had burrs of metal and pieces of broken glass braided into it along with the typical knots in the leather. This was clearly Weltha. He didn't react, knowing that doing anything would only infuriate her further. Weltha's dark, bird-like eyes flickered over to Sabal. Her scrutiny of the drow made Camran nervous. There was something else to that look. When Weltha turned around, he looked over at Sabal as nonchalantly as he could. Amber eyes met his and then she inclined her head in the tiniest of nods. He wasn't certain what that meant, but he assumed it was a sign that she'd noticed too.

"Lot o' coin comes in this way," Weltha said. "Though wouldn't have pegged ya as slavers. 'Specially not with one o' them shield dwarves." She chuckled a little and shrugged as she looked at Storunn. "Guess ya lot ain't as good as ya think."

Storunn glared back.

Aly didn't seem troubled at all as they rounded the corner and started moving down the rows of cells. Guards were everywhere down here, all of them watching with unconcealed interest as their little group moved through. Some of the brutes were duergar, but a large number were hobgoblins or orcs. They were powerful figures in rough armor whose eyes lingered long on Aly with a sort of lewd attentiveness. If they were similarly oggling Sabal, they were doing so furtively. Clearly they at least respected the reputation of the drow. The drowess seemed disinterested and untroubled by their audience, though her lips had thinned into an expression of annoyance. Camran guessed that their little errand was taking longer than the drow woman had expected.

Weltha unlocked a cell and vanished into it. She dragged out a scruffy-looking halfling with a leg bent at an unnatural angle and dropped him unceremoniously in front of Aly. He appeared quite unconscious. The wizard crouched down and carefully straightened the leg with an unpleasant snapping noise. "Camran, if you would?" Alystin said even though she could heal just fine. She was saving those spells in case something went wrong, which might not be far in the future, judging from Sabal's expression.

The priest knelt down and wove a healing spell over the unconscious halfling. The thief's eyes snapped open immediately and he stared up at Camran with surprise. "A human?" he said in Common, eyes wide in surprise. The halfling looked very close to a human child, his face round with soft cheeks and an unassuming jaw. His hair was dark, complementing green eyes. He certainly didn't look like a dangerous fighter. No wonder he had been captured.

"I am Camran Daley," the priest said with a small smile. "Who might you be?"

"Linnan Leafrunner," he said, easing himself up into a sitting position. "Where's Nendir?"

The priest was puzzled. "Your partner?" he guessed.

"Yep," the halfling said. He squinted at Camran. "Minaithelan Nendir. Pointy ears. Makes him real easy to recognize down here. Not leaving without him." He turned his head to look at the rest of the group and froze, staring at Sabal like a frightened rabbit. "Shit!"

"That's an elvish name," Sabal said darkly.

Alystin sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. She didn't want to take an elf either, if only because of future problems with Sabal. He would be useful on the surface, though, and if it bought the halfling's loyalty...it was something she could live with, certainly. "Where's the elf?" she asked Weltha. "We'll pay you for him as well."

"We've already got a buyer for him lined up," the duergar said, leaning against a wall and crossing her ankles as she tucked her thumbs behind her thick rothé-hide belt. "Five hundred gold. Ya got better than that?"

"I do," Aly said with a faint smile.

Weltha chuckled. "Grand," she said, waving them deeper into the dungeon. "Mind, he's a bit of a mess. Got into a scrap with some of the guards. Beat him down good."

Aly heard her lover murmur an indistinct approval and shot a hard look back over her shoulder at an unrepentant Sabal. The wilder just shrugged.

The moment Weltha opened up that door and dragged out a limp body, Aly winced. She could barely tell that his skin was fair, he had so many dark bruises. His face was a bloody, swollen mess and his torso had been shredded by lashes like the one Weltha carried. It was not a pretty picture. Camran looked like he was going to be sick and Linnan wasn't much better.

"Now what to do about ya," Weltha said, rounding on the group. That was the moment where Aly realized there were suddenly far more guards than she'd been expecting. "Got some enemies that'd pay real well to have that pretty head, A'Daragon."

"And you intend to collect it?" Sabal said with a sudden grin. Weltha was making her day.

A sick wave of dread crashed over the other members of her group.

"Nah, just stop ya," Weltha said. "Laird don't know ya came, A'Daragon. She won't have ta explain nothin' to ya'r folks. Give up easy, and nobody else gets hurt. Wouldn't want these friends of ya getting all roughed up. 'Specially not the girl. Boys like ta play."

It was a phrase Weltha would regret uttering, but not for long. Sabal's sword came out of its scabbard so fast that the blade hissed through the air, the draw turning into a vicious cut that rendered one of the female duergar's arms unusable as Weltha threw it up to block. The blade cracked down on the forearm, snapping both bones and opening up a bloody laceration like a yawning crimson mouth. Before Weltha could bark an order, the drowess's sword pierced her throat.

There was a yowl that rose up from the guards. Immediately, the assembled gangs of goblinoids and duergar started to advance on the group. "Storunn, grab the elf," Aly ordered.

"Can't fight with me hands full, lass," the dwarf groused even as he hauled up their bloody wreck of an elf.

Linnan grabbed a long, wicked looking knife from Weltha's belt and darted off ahead. He was at the perfect height to cripple the powerful orcs and hobgoblins by slashing at their knees. "This way!" he shouted, heading for the exit.

Storunn had expected to be the bull-rusher, not the one carrying their downed elf. Drow were not known as frontline fighters. Perhaps that was why he was so surprised to see Sabal stepping up and clashing blades. She caught an orc's swing from high and lashed out with a front snap kick that hit him in the groin like she was trying to kick past him. He staggered back, only to have her drive her sword through his chest. The next one coming from the side was hit with a vicious elbow and then a powerful cut. The drowess was smiling...sort of. Her teeth were bared in a wicked grin that made the shield dwarf shudder on the inside. That was the face of someone enjoying mayhem.

"Eyes!" Aly shouted, giving her companions less than half a second to close their eyes before she let loose with a powerful bolt of chain lightning that arced between their foes, leaping from armored body to armored body and narrowly missing Sabal. The smell of ozone and burning hair filled their senses. The combination of the two made the guards hesitate, which was enough to let the small group run out for the streets.

"When I find Firehand..." Sabal growled out as they passed the last threshold. Her delight faded the moment they were out of combat.

"I doubt he knew what Weltha intended," Aly said, attempting to calm her lover just a touch. She knew the idea of the guards laying hands on her would still be bothering Sabal. "Thangardt is many things, but stupid he is not. He would have remained behind and lobbed fireballs at you if he were part of it."

Sabal made a noise of displeasure, but dropped the matter. She knew there would be no point in chasing Thangardt. Aly had a good point and the real reason for her ire was a lack of things to vent on. This whole adventure had her disoriented and that made for a very unhappy drowess.

"Will they send more people after us?" Camran asked nervously. "We did kill an officer of the law. And you didn't pay them for the elf."

"Not out in plain sight," Aly said. "We should be careful and stick together, but they know better than to attack a drow where representatives from Menzoberranzan might hear. They need trade with the City of Spiders a lot more than they need Sabal dead. I doubt Durna will be angry once she investigates the matter. We may have to answer questions, of course."

"He needs extensive healing," Camran said, looking over at the elf. "I'm not very experienced with herbs in the Underdark. Is there anything you know, Aly?"

"I can help," she assured him with a small smile. "I've been down here long enough to know a great deal about the local flora and fauna."

"She's a good healer," Sabal said as they approached the inn. People looked over at them as they passed through the streets with a limping halfling and a badly beaten man, but not for long.

Camran smiled widely. "Then I would be delighted to learn. Do you have everything you need?"

Aly studied the elf's wounds as best she could with Storunn carrying him. "I should," she said with confidence. She had become much more sure of herself over the past few decades, particularly in regards to her healing abilities. Sabal's encouragement had gone a long way, helped along by Nedelyne's praise. "Linnan, what did you say his name was?"

"Minaithelan Nendir," the halfling said as he followed behind Sabal. "I usually call him Nendir. You folks can sure handle yourselves in a fight."

"That was not a fight," Sabal said with just a hint of amusement. "That was exercise."

Storunn laughed. "Now I remember why I like ye," the dwarf said. Camran opened the door for the group, who immediately headed up to the rooms. "Where do ye want to put the elf?"

"Our room," Aly said, noting the irritation that flashed across Sabal's face. Their time alone was going to be ruined, but that was just the way of things. "I need to be able to keep an eye on him through the night. Camran, if you want to help?"

"Of course," the young man said with enthusiasm.

"Does this mean I'm sleepin' with the drow?" Storunn asked a little uneasily.

"Near," Sabal said flatly, massaging her temples as the headache that had started when Aly was threatened continued to rage. "Not with. You're not my type, dwarf."

Aly smothered a laugh with one hand even though she knew Sabal was in a mood. The tightness in her jaw and the narrowing of her eyes gave that much away. Still, she had an eager pupil to instruct and a patient to see to. That would keep her busy for the night. "Come on," she said to Camran after Storunn had passed the elf off to him. "Nendir will be fine with us, Linnan. Why don't you get acquainted with Sabal and Storunn?"

Linnan gave the drowess a cautious look. She didn't exactly appear thrilled with the idea either, but she shrugged. "I'll buy," the amber-eyed drowess said.

It was at that moment that Linnan decided he could learn to like her after all. It wasn't hard to make him happy and it was the first bit of generosity he'd seen in the Underdark, no matter how small. "So what's the story with the humans?" he asked as she sat down at a table near the wall and ordered them drinks.

"I've known Aly for a while," Sabal said, knowing it was time to be vague. She didn't lie often or well, but she did know how to leave important details out when she needed to. Omission was so much easier than fabrication. "She and I are partners. Storunn is a new acquaintance and Camran even newer than him."

"Bit of an odd group," Linnan said, beaming at the barmaid who brought them their drinks even though she was a half orc with a face like a fist. She smiled back, showing off yellowed tusks. "What brings you all together?"

"We're hunting devils," Sabal said. "A task which I believe you've just been enlisted to aid in."

"If your friends manage to save Nendir, I'll armwrestle a dragon for you," Linnan said honestly. "Nendir's my best mate. Has been since I was a little tyke. He's out proving himself, and I figured I'd better follow."

"He must be young for an elf, then," Sabal said. She was well aware that surface elves matured much more slowly and generally lived for much longer than their drow cousins, though that was more of a factor of lifestyle than superior blood on either side. Drow had to grow much more quickly and their lives were often shortened prematurely. Yvonnel Baenre was proof that drow could live just as long as any surface elf if cunning and lucky enough. Halflings could live a fair while—not long in the eyes of an elf, of course—but Linnan didn't look very old.

"Yeah, a bit," Linnan admitted. "About a century."

"What brought you into the depths?" Sabal asked, curious despite herself now. It was strange to hear of an elf so young—just barely an adult for his kind—making his way in the Underdark. She doubted he was an avenger of Shevarash or anything of that nature.

The halfling smiled wryly. "Run of bad luck. Law was chasing us through the woods, bounty hunters. We were running, and this sinkhole opened up in front of us. Weren't a far fall, but it looked like it was. Instead of climbing out, Nendir decided to follow the tunnel so they would have a hell of a time finding us. Got us lost something terrible—some ranger he is—and now we're here."

"Consider yerself lucky now," Storunn said after a healthy swig of his ale. "Got some new friends, a fixed leg, and Nendir's in good hands."

Upstairs, Camran sat next to Aly and watched as she turned mashed mushroom into a poultice that she applied to the elf's damaged face. "So what's your story, Aly?" the priest asked as he turned his eyes back to his task, which was cutting bandages from his supply of linen.

"Hmm?" the wizard hummed.

"You're a human in the depths, and you've got a drow bodyguard. I can't say that of...anyone else I've ever met," Camran said. He looked over to see a pensive look on her face, as if she was deep in memory.

In reality, Aly was busy constructing her story. She needed to keep it close to the truth. A bit of vagueness never hurt. "Let's see...I've been in Menzoberranzan as long as I can remember. My family was there. Dead and gone now, but I don't really miss them. I never knew them very well," Alystin said as she worked. Whatever she was doing took quick effect, considering Camran could see some of the swelling starting to go down around his puffy cuts that had been an angry red.

"Were you a slave?" Camran asked quietly. He knew that was probably the only way the drow would have kept a human around, but he hadn't seen any marks of a lash. More disturbing talks with some of the caravan guards had informed him that there were certain slaves that the drow kept undamaged whenever possible, and they were not the kind used for harsh labor. Comfort slaves, he'd heard them called, playthings for their drow masters when the mood took them. He wasn't certain if it was true or not, but he hated to think of such a terrible thing happening to a woman who seemed so thoughtful and pleasant.

Alystin reflected on the ugliness that had been her childhood for a moment. "Of a sort," she said with a sigh. "My prison was not barred, but it was a prison nonetheless. My arcane inclinations set me apart too, despite the best efforts of House Kenafin's noble daughters to beat it out of me. I met Sabal when I was young, studying as a wizard. She has been very good to me. I know it's hard to see it with her attitude."

"How did you free yourself?" Camran asked.

"When House Kenafin was wiped out, Sabal secured me a position with another house. This time, I served willingly and without the invisible chains that Kenafin had placed on me. And that's the story. It was more exciting than it sounds, yes, but I prefer the boring and simple version," she said, turning her attention to unconscious elf's broken ribs. She started murmuring soft incantations as she wove her hands through the air over his side. Camran heard a series of quiet cracks as the ribs snapped back into place. He was impressed. He'd never heard of wizards healing before.

There was a nagging question on his mind, though, and he saw this as a good opportunity to ask. "Why did Sabal help you? She doesn't seem like a terribly selfless person."

Aly laughed. "She might surprise you, Camran. She's sacrificed a great deal over the course of her life. Not always by choice, but she operates under the assumption that there are things in the world much larger and more worthwhile than her own happiness or survival," the wizard said. Her face softened slightly as she thought about her lover. She couldn't explain what it was that made Sabal care for her as much as she did. Aly had never considered herself particularly special or attractive or powerful. And yet, there the inquisitor was, saying things like, _you'll always have me_. Even when it was foolish and difficult, she stayed. "I don't know why she helped me. I like to think it's because she sees something in me that's worth saving. I've repaid the favor many times over, but we never split off to go our separate ways. I'm glad we haven't. It's rare to find anyone as loyal and protective as Sabal in the Underdark, particularly among the drow. Better to hold on to such people tightly."

"That's surprisingly sweet," Camran said with a smile.

"Yes, well, better keep that between the two of us, yes? The last thing I need is her growling at me because I hinted that she might not always be a bitch," the wizard said with amusement.

"Do you know much about Sabal?" the priest of Sune asked as he handed over his freshly made bandages. Aly applied a dark green salve to them and started binding up the wounds to the elf's arms.

"Not as much as I'd like to," she said. Now she was going to have to start lying. If Sabal's calling was revealed, they would have a lot of explaining to do and probably a fight. Better not to let the boy know that he was working alongside an agent of Lloth. "Sabal is very...closed off. I know that she came from nothing. No house, no family, no friends. She was rescued by a woman who taught her everything she knows. I think she tries to follow that example when she can. Anyway, now she's with me, doing her best to ensure that I live to a ripe old age and killing anything that tries to prevent that. We make a good team. She carves things apart and soaks up damage, I heal her and blow things up."

"Hopefully we'll all make a good team," Camran said warmly.

"I think we're off to a surprisingly good start. Here's hoping it will last when this one wakes up," Aly said, looking down at the elf thoughtfully.


	3. Making Nice

"I owe you my thanks," Nendir said, his honey-colored eyes flickering from his halfling friend to the human woman who had pieced him back together to her assistant. There was barely any sign of his wounds left. Only a handful of swiftly healing bruises and a few scabbed-over cuts remained as evidence of his mistreatment. His broken bones were repaired and someone had even cleaned him up. He hoped it was the priest of Sune rather than the pretty young lady sitting in front of him. That would have been embarrassing, even if she was a healer who'd seen everything before. "And, if what Linnan tells me is true, my assistance. You are hunting devils?"

"Yes," Camran confirmed. He hesitated and looked to Aly. "There is something you should know about the company we travel in."

Aly sighed. "Sabal, our friend, is a drow," she explained gently. "I've already spoken to her and she's agreed not to do you any injury, but I was hoping you would extend her the same courtesy. If not...this is where we part ways."

Nendir looked torn. He wanted to assist in a good cause, the better to prove himself to his people, but drow were nigh universally evil. Particularly the female ones, if the tales were true. "And you say she has agreed to do me no harm?"

Camran nodded. He hadn't been there for the conversation between the two women—it had been conducted beside Nendir's unconscious body in private—but he did see the drow stalk off in a foul mood to go spar with Storunn and Aly emerge looking relieved, which meant it had been a successful endeavor. "If Aly made her promise, you can be assured she will keep it. She puts a great deal of stock in our wizard's good graces."

Nendir wasn't certain if he believed that yet, but he trusted the people who had saved him even if they did travel with a drow. Perhaps she was a good one, like Do'Urden. There would only be one way to find out. "Thank you," he said. "I would like to meet this drow and your dwarf friend."

"They're outside playing," Alystin said, earning a strange look from Linnan and Nendir both.

Their type of play became obvious the moment the small group stepped out around the back of the inn. At the center of the small courtyard, Sabal and Storunn were locked in mock combat. They emerged just in time to see Storunn all but fling the drowess across the stones. She turned the powerful shove into a tumble away and a spring to her feet with the grace of an acrobat. She parried his swing and then twisted in a swift action, rolling out of the lock between his axe and her blade to deliver a ringing kick to the side of his head. The dwarf dropped, hissing curses out the whole way down. "It is fortunate that your skull is so thick, Storunn," Sabal taunted even as she backed up so he could regain his feet. It was a surprising courtesy for a woman more likely to batter at his ribs and head while he was down than not. Then again, this wasn't a true fight.

"Ye talk well with no teeth, Sabal?" Storunn grunted as he started to circle again. The dwarf was a skilled warrior, but Sabal had seen more battle than even he had over the course of her relatively short life. They were also from very different schools of thought even though they both went for the thick of the fighting: he had grit, she had grace. The drow seemed to just flow out of the way of his next strike, turning her movement into a sharp attack that became a fairly soft love-tap to the back of his head. It was enough to ring his bell, but not enough to do more than raise a welt.

Nendir was impressed despite himself. He had tutors who had worked for centuries to be able to move that well.

"Sabal, Storunn, our elf is awake!" Aly called.

The dwarf gave the drowess a glare as she smirked ever so faintly. "Next time, drow," he barked before heading over to the others. Sabal followed suit after checking the edge of her blunted practice blade. The real thing was over with her armor, but she wasn't terribly worried about being attacked. Even a blunt blade could kill easily.

"I think they're getting on well," Camran said, entertained. His amusement faded when Sabal's expression turned from a smile to a sneer as she approached.

"Faerie," Sabal said coolly as a greeting, her hostility not quite open but not well disguised either. Every ounce of training she had, every instinct ingrained in her, screamed for her to kill him. Maybe he had done nothing, but that didn't matter. He was still a surface elf and she was still a servant of Lloth.

"Drow," Nendir said with a polite bow. He didn't like her on first inspection either, but sometimes it was better to kill with kindness. Sabal looked ferocious with her facial scars and intense amber eyes. She was attractive, he supposed, in the way of a harsh and wild thing. She certainly seemed to be a seasoned warrior, which made him a little bit uncomfortable. His thoughts went to a similar place as Camran's had. Was she a surface raider? How many elves had she killed? He said nothing of it, however. "I understand that you were part of the group who rescued me. I thank you. It would seem we will be traveling together."

"It would seem so," she said with stiffness, eyes still narrowed. She was more than capable of reading dislike even without her powers. "I gave Alystin my word that I would not do you injury while you are traveling with us."

It was tempting to ask her exactly how much the word of a drow was worth, but Nendir had little interest in getting into a fight with a creature of blood and shadow like her. "I appreciate that," he said instead, studying her more closely. Those fearsome amber eyes never wavered from his, promising danger should he misstep even a little. He had no doubt that she was already examining her promise for loopholes, if she even intended to keep it. "I am Minaithelan Nendir. Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

Her lip curled and anger flashed in her eyes. "Drown another in your honey, elf," she said before stalking past him, running her thumb along the edge of her practice blade as she moved.

Nendir was taken aback. He expected her to simply take that as courtesy, not read it as dishonesty...even if it was dishonest. She was a drow, so he wasn't exactly going to be overjoyed to make her acquaintance. Perhaps he'd laid it on a bit thick. "What—?"

"That was ruder than usual," Camran commented as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. The elf looked sort of stunned still. On the surface, people tended to have manners that discouraged such aggressive brush-offs. "Aly, you want to talk to her?"

"Nah, I'll do it," Storunn said, ignoring the obvious worried look shared by Camran and Aly. He was beginning to get along with the drowess despite her abrasive attitude, not that their other comrades had detected much of a difference. It was a subtle sort of tolerance underlying their interactions. He sauntered over after the amber-eyed drow, who was cleaning off her blunted sword before restoring it to its place in her gear. "Not a fan o' the elf, Sabal?"

She didn't even look up at him. "I don't plan on having to swallow the false sweetness of a blood enemy playing nice at Aly's behest," she said with that sort of blunt forcefulness that he was beginning to associate with her. Sabal was the first drow he had met who didn't carefully calculate the effects of their words before speaking, massaging each syllable until it was precisely the right tone and inflection for the job. Nor did she seem particularly inclined towards lying. It was a refreshing change, but one that made him wonder how she had ever survived. She was certainly no noble, but she did not seem to be a commoner either. Sabal appeared to exist in some strange between place in drow society, which was much nearer to the truth than Storunn would likely ever know.

"Ain't doing ye any good, lass, nor him," Storunn said, resting his hand on the head of his axe.

"I am not going to apologize," she said, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. Her expression dared him to try and make her budge on it. "I try not to say things I don't mean."

"Yer a freak of a drow, then," the shield dwarf said with a chuckle. For a second, he thought Sabal was going to lunge at him. Then her stony expression cracked into the barest hint of a smile that lasted for only an instant.

"You have no idea," she said as she picked up her real sword and unsheathed it, checking the edge of the blade for any nicks that might have suddenly appeared while she was parted from it. More seriously, she continued, "They'll slow us down at best."

"Linnan and Nendir?" Storunn said, raising a thick eyebrow.

"The elf and the human boy. The halfling can at least hide himself so that I will not have to chaperone him on the field of battle," the drowess said irritably. She did not stop talking or lower her voice when the others approached. "They are young, Storunn, and inexperienced. Half-trained. They are not prepared to handle fiends. I have seen what becomes of ill-prepared soldiers against such terrifying foes. They break."

Camran said nothing as he considered Sabal's point, as insulting as it was. His only experience with creatures like this was the vision he'd been granted. His order had not trained him as a warrior. He did not have Storunn's cavalier attitude, nor Sabal's violent single-mindedness. There was a very real chance that she was right and he wasn't prepared. He glanced over at Nendir, who had turned red with anger. "So teach us," Camran said pleasantly, bowing his head slightly to Sabal when she looked at him.

"Speak for yourself!" Nendir snapped as his hands curled into fists. "I was trained by the Knights in Silver!"

"They're good sorts, Sabal," Storunn said at that, pleased that they had the elf on their side if that much was the case. Perhaps he had learned about hunting evil. "Guard all o' Silverymoon. Tough lot."

Sabal's lips quirked in amusement when she stared at the elf. "And yet, here he is, standing with all the pride and wit of a peacock," the drowess said as she straightened up. "Not a lick of sense beaten into him."

"Sabal!" Aly called in dismay, as if to avert what was coming. Camran and Storunn both jumped back out of the way as Nendir took his swing. Sabal caught his arm as she deflected him past her body and used his momentum to hurl him across the courtyard. There was a definite thud when he landed on his back.

Nendir blinked hard and gasped, but only for a split second before he was struggling up to his feet again. Before he could make it all the way, a kick hit him in the solar plexus and sent him over again. A sword clattered to the cobblestones next to his hand: Sabal's practice blade. He grabbed it and rose with murder in his eyes, one arm covering his aching stomach.

"Not really a fair fight, lass," Storunn said as Sabal picked up a broom and snapped the bristled end off against the stone. She gave it a brief test swing. Too light for a sword and a little too long, but it would imprint the lesson she intended for the elf.

"Aly insisted I include him," the wilder said with a shrug.

Storunn chuckled. He would have slapped Sabal on the back companionably, but he was somewhat concerned about her lashing out at him and Nendir chose that moment to lunge at her. The drowess seemed to sense it before he arrived and twitched just barely to the side. There was a sharp crack when she brought her stick down across the back of his thighs, a meaty area that would bruise without breaking any bones. The dwarf, meanwhile, edged over to where Camran, Aly, and Linnan were standing. "I think she likes him," he said, stroking his beard.

Linnan gaped at the next impact, this one across Nendir's calves. "This is what she does to people she likes? She's beating on him!"

"I wouldn't say she likes him yet. I want to be angry at her..." Aly said as she watched this unfold. The elf was getting a thorough beating, one that he growled and struggled through. She sighed. "...but I remember her doing exactly this with me. She's teaching him. Admittedly, the first lesson is that being hit really, really hurts. Still, this means that she does consider him part of the group, whether she approves or not."

"Better him than me," Camran said with a wince. Sabal trapped Nendir's foot with a step in and drove an elbow into his already bruised abdomen, hitting him squarely in the solar plexus again.

Storunn grinned. "Oh, ye'll get yers too, lad."

"She _is_ good," Linnan admitted as the sword went clattering across the stones. Nendir hit the ground hard, panting so harshly that he couldn't even curse. It hadn't been a long, drawn out fight of warriors on equal footing meeting. It was a savage beating with the illusion of a chance to fight back. He hadn't even hit her. Some of the blows she had evaded like she knew they were already coming, even though Nendir hadn't been telegraphing his strikes, while the others were simply batted away. "Most folks can't take him like that."

Alystin winced a little when Sabal grabbed Nendir by his arm and drug him over across the stones. "I just healed him," she said, half scolding.

"Bruises build character," Sabal said with an unapologetic shrug, dropping the elf unceremoniously. When he groaned, she added, "See? He's fine. They have to learn somehow, Aly. Better a beating than a burial, right?"

Nendir stood up, swaying slightly. His lip was split now from a right cross to the face, but the rage had vanished out of him somewhere in the course of his trouncing. He hurt too much to seethe. "You are not a devil," the elf pointed out, cupping his bleeding mouth.

"Well, lad, ye're already sayin' sweet things to her. I reckon ye'll be fast friends," Storunn said with a big grin.

"And that's why you're still breathing. A devil won't be so kind," Sabal pointed out as she shook out her right hand slightly. His head was hard and she wasn't wearing a gauntlet, so she'd had to soften her strike a little bit. It still stung in her knuckles. "Your Knights in Silver taught you the mechanics of the blade, how to strike and how to block. They taught you to swing a sword. They did not teach you to win. Do you understand the difference now?"

Nendir curled an arm around his midsection and hunched forward a little. "I am beginning to," he admitted. "Are you a knight, Lady Sabal?"

"I am a sword," Sabal said, leaning against the side of the building. The elf was taking the beating with a fair amount of good grace, which was fortunate. It would save her arm the work of repeating the lesson for at least a little while. Rarely was Sabal asked to train another, as it was a waste of a very valuable resource as far as the Revered Daughter was concerned, but she had done it in the past. Not everyone learned as quickly as Alystin.

Camran felt an unease settle in his stomach again. Sabal was a woman of intensity and sometimes she said things that gave him pause. What, exactly, was she? But she had prompted an even more important question. "And who is your wielder?" Camran asked.

"I am," Alystin said, knowing that it was an explanation that would be deemed acceptable and that would go more towards explaining the control she had over the wilder. "At least right now. Right, Sabal?"

Sabal's smile had an interesting element to it when she gave the wizard a little bow. "As you say, _Mistress_ ," the amber-eyed drowess drawled, throwing in the title usually used by males as a sort of innuendo. It must have worked, because she saw a brief shocked look dart across Alystin's face, accompanied by just a hint of blush on fair cheeks. Her human disguise made it far too easy to read her embarrassment, no matter how well she tried to hide it. No one else caught it, but then again, they hadn't been looking for it.

Alystin looked over at the others before glaring back at the drowess. "Behave, Sabal," she said warningly in Drow as Camran started to heal Nendir's many bruises. Linnan chuckled a little at the expression on Aly's face.

The wilder nodded, stone-faced, but her voice whispered in Aly's thoughts, _You liked it, didn't you?_ The amusement was readily apparent.

 _You are a wicked woman_ , Alystin thought back, well aware that Sabal would be able to read her embarrassment like a book.

Sabal smothered a grin with expert ease and turned to the rest of their group. The silent conversation had been so brief it created no uncomfortable pause. It was also the first time she had touched Aly's thoughts since they'd left Menzoberranzan. The reminder of what she did have went a long ways towards clearing up her foul mood. "We should be preparing to leave," she said smoothly. "Camran, is the gear together?"

"Everything but what you and Storunn have here is out with the lizards," the priest said with a nod. "Are we leaving?"

"We should," Sabal said as she picked up her blunted training sword and returned it to its scabbard. The drowess buckled her armor on with the speed of a woman who had daily practice. She was still unhappy about the arrangements with the group and the presence of a surface elf, but she was not going to say anything about it now. If Aly was satisfied, she would try. She just intended to be ready for the moment they tried to turn on her. The races of the surfce could insist until the day the sun burned out that they were different from the drow, but as far as Sabal was concerned, the nature of people was the same no matter their skin color. That wasn't to say she believed say, a human, was her equal—it just meant that she recognized a comparable inclination towards self-serving cruelty and treachery in the children of the sun.

Aly smoothed a hand over her hair, feeling a little bit ruffled by Sabal's tease. They'd had no chance to spend time together in private, something that the wizard was feeling as much as the inquisitor did. Still, they'd become adept at stealing moments over the course of years. This was unpleasant, but survivable. "The sooner, the better," she agreed. "I would not want to wear out our rather tenuous welcome in Gracklstugh. Other races besides the duergar may be represented, but they are not liked and we have caused some trouble."

"Speaking of trouble," Camran said nervously when he realized they were being approached by a group of duergar guards in heavy, black armor painted with the sharp, runic symbol of Thuldark.

At the center of the small grouping was a duergar woman, pretty for one of her race. Her blocky gray features were a little softer than average and her dark hair had been closely cropped rather than shaved off completely. Black, raven-like eyes studied the group with a sort of calculating curiosity, but they fixed on Sabal. "The infamous Sabal A'Daragon," Durna Thuldark greeted with a small inclination of her head. She spoke Undercommon with a trader's accent, bits of inflection from all over the Underdark bleeding in. "Such interesting company you keep."

Sabal bowed respectfully to the duergar, cognizant that she was in Durna's territory as a guest. Drow arrogance was strong, but it was not foolish. "Laird Thuldark," she acknowledged in return. "What may I assist you with?"

"Walk with me," Durna said after a very brief examination of the drow's party. She was more interested in what prompted an inquisitor to mingle with outlanders in a duergar city than the motives of these surface creatures. The shield dwarf's presence was galling, but Durna was a pragmatic sort. Killing him would achieve nothing, or perhaps even less than that if he was working in the service of the drow. Menzoberranzan did not appreciate those who meddled in their goddess's affairs. "I would hear what task brings you to such exotic company."

"Of course," Sabal said. Her companions looked a little unsettled, but the wilder was comfortable. Her position often brought her to the attention of the powerful even beyond Menzoberranzan, as an open agent of Lloth was a creature that generally prompted questions from those invested in the status quo. Sabal was very much the tool of an agenda that ruled the Night Beneath. The guards remained with the group as unspoken insurance that the drow would not harm their liege, leaving the two women to walk and talk.

"I would ask you how fares Menzoberranzan, but news tells me that the City of Spiders flourishes," Durna said as they moved away from the group. "I will instead be impossibly rude and jump to business. It is unusual to see a member of your order in any company that is not drow, Inquisitor. Not only have you engaged with them, you actually violated the law and killed Weltha Stonebreaker to acquire two of them."

"I killed Stonebreaker because she wanted to capture me for ransom to the enemies of Lloth," Sabal countered politely. "That I ended up with a halfling and a faerie as a consequence of that comes as much of a surprise to me as you. However, they seem useful enough, so perhaps I will tolerate them until their utility is at an end."

"How very drow of you," Durna said with a laugh, her onyx eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. It was a very wholesome expression for a duergar, almost surface-like in its friendliness. She had charm, one of the things that made her an excellent trader. "I apologize for my subordinate's transgression, though I think you have already administered adequate punishment. I am a little put out, mind you. It's so hard to find capable people in this world. But that's not why I'm here. What brings you to our city, Inquisitor?"

"It's a stop along the way," the amber-eyed drowess said without qualm. There was no reason for Durna to be offended by her task, considering it didn't pertain to Gracklstugh or the duergar in any appreciable way. "I have no intention of sowing chaos within your realms, Laird Thuldark. I am bound to other places."

"I am grateful to hear that. I have no objection to the Spider Queen's faithful so long as they keep what is their business to themselves and permit me to do the same. I have found my relationship with Menzoberranzan to be quite profitable. That is why, out of courtesy, I intend to give you the name of the man who wanted your head so badly he paid Weltha Stonebreaker a small fortune to capture you."

Sabal's amber eyes gleamed in the darkness. "You have my attention."

Durna smiled faintly. "I thought I might," the duergar said. "Your concerned friend was working through an agent at the time...an agent who came to the clear realization that making an enemy of the Demon Queen of Spiders was perhaps a poor life choice. He was persuaded to give up his employer's name: Jaeger Holt."

The wilder frowned thoughtfully. That was not a drow name, nor a dwarvish or gnomish one, which made her uncomfortable. "The name means nothing to me. Do you know this man?"

"One of my most valuable lines of commerce is the trade of spell components from the Underdark," Durna said, stopping at the edge of the courtyard. Her guards and the drowess's companions were all watching, but they were well out of earshot. "Jaeger Holt—or should I say Lord Jaeger Holt of the Silver Marches, Ambassador to Waterdeep—is very much a consumer of my products. A fact he would like to keep secret, considering some of the spells that require ingredients found only in the Underdark. You have dangerous enemies, Inquisitor."

The drowess raised an eyebrow slightly as her lips quirked into a wry smile. "As if there is some other kind of enemy," she said. "Is there anything else you would care to tell me, in your spirit of cooperation?"

"Alas, my generosity is at an end," Durna said. The duergar knew that the wilder before her could easily sense the unspoken 'but'. Psionics fascinated Durna as much as they terrified her. All duergar knew to fear the powers of the mindflayers who had once enslaved them, as did every creature under the earth. Except for the drow. The dark elves feared it, yes, but they had also found a way to bend even those alien and dangerous abilities to the will of their Goddess. Durna admired that level of power. It was one of the reasons she actually enjoyed dealing with the drow. It was dangerous beyond measure, of course, but it was also immensely rewarding and educational. "This merely means that any further information you wish to obtain requires a business arrangement of some kind."

This, Sabal was comfortable with. She didn't have to puzzle over what Durna's angle might be. It was simple, clear-cut, personal gain. Business, as she'd said. None of this nebulous 'greater good' business or actions motivated by 'the heart'. Coldly logical pragmatism was something she appreciated in others, even if her own motives were a little less reasonable. "Perhaps if I knew what interested you, I might be able to assist," the drowess said smoothly, clasping her hands behind her back.

"I have a task that, for you, will be quite simple to complete. The guards assembled with your fellows are not necessarily as loyal as they might appear. I believe that one is an assassin who has taken the assignment for some years now, hoping to get close enough for me to trust him so that he may kill me. The catch is that I do not know which one. Your abilities make you uniquely suited to finding him. Were you to do me this small service, I would be happy to provide you with more information about Holt," Durna said, resting her hands on her hips. She had spoken without looking over at the guards. "Is this an acceptable sort of tit for tat?"

Sabal flexed her fingers in her gauntlets and nodded. "Then we will rejoin them and I will make an example," the amber-eyed drowess said. Her companions were not going to like this. Aly would understand, but the others? Not so much.

Durna was pleased that she hadn't even needed to ask for an example. Truly, the Yath'Abban trained their people well. She would have to pass her compliments to the Revered Daughter the next time they met. "Of course, Inquisitor. I'm sure we'll all enjoy the show."

"I live to please. Ask them who they serve. When the lie forms, I will see it," the wilder said. She was already contemplating her first move.

The pair strode back to the assembled group. "Men, form up!" the duergar laird ordered. Curious gawkers from the street, no doubt some of them spies of the rival lairds, flowed in and out of the inn's courtyard. Other merchants and travelers were moving around, but many of them had stopped to watch too. Obediently, even if slightly confused, the guards formed ranks. There were eight here, their faces all concealed by heavy helms that would offer them nowhere near enough protection from Sabal.

Sabal took a moment to clear her mind. She closed her eyes, aware that there were eyes on her. Durna looked up and down the line of duergar. "Who do you serve?" she asked her men.

The drowess could feel the confusion and there, hidden amongst the knots, was fear. Sabal caught the sweet thread and followed it to its source. The duergar was quivering in his armor, staring at her. She felt no sympathy for the assassin as she watched him. "Ivar Blackhewer," Sabal said aloud, her amber eyes focused on him. "He is your traitor, Laird Thuldark."

Durna smiled the particularly pleased, particularly nasty smile of a woman well aware that something very bad was about to happen to her enemy. "Ivar, who do you serve?"

"Y—" That was as far as he made it before the banshee shriek of psionic energy tore through the air, force rippling the air when the impact hit his breastplate so hard that it bent the metal in. The duergar's feet left the ground as he rocketed back into the wall. Everyone flinched except for Sabal, even Durna.

 _Run, little dwarf. Maybe it will save you_ , Sabal's voice purred in the thoughts of everyone watching. She could feel the fear that blanketed the whole area. This was enjoyable. This felt right. There was no confusion in the chase. There was no need to smile and make nice or be anything that wasn't what she felt. There was only predator and prey.

The damaged grey dwarf scrambled to his feet, but he didn't make it more than a second before his feet were suddenly too heavy to lift. A crushing pain enveloped his ribs as Sabal clenched her fist. He heard his bones start to crack. The duergar let out a wail when she flung him again, this time across the courtyard.

 _Who sent you, little dwarf?_ Sabal inquired with malevolence even as she drew her sword and stalked after the wounded guard. There was nowhere for him to run.

"Please!" he yelped out at the approaching drowess.

 _Wrong answer_. Sabal drove into his thoughts mercilessly, deaf to the howling of the miserable creature as she started to rend everything she came across. The mind would continue to feel pain long after the body would have shut down. _You have the power to make all of this just go away. Tell me who sent you and the pain will stop._

"Olon Drekhenn!" the dwarf managed to scream through the pain. His honesty was a white flash amidst the tangled reds and blacks of his thoughts. Sabal immediately stopped her assault, leaving the duergar a twitching mess on the cobblestones. She approached the downed guard.

Without a further word, Sabal thrust her blade in through the eye-slit of his helm. She stopped only when she felt a sudden shock of cold as void replaced what had been a living mind. It was unkind, but it was more charitable than the punishments of the duergar for traitors. At least the pain she had inflicted, no matter how intense, was brief. She withdrew her weapon and pulled out a square of black cloth from behind her vambrace to wipe off her blade. The ache in her head had receded after this release of power, but it was still considerable. She needed a battle to wade into. She checked her weapon for any sign of damage, then returned it to the scabbard before approaching Durna and her small group of companions. All of them, save for Aly, looked stunned. It was a sudden, explosive display of violence and psionic power that they were likely not accustomed to on the surface. Durna looked pleased by it.

"Your reputation is well earned, Sabal A'Daragon," Durna said. "I imagine that once word gets back to Drekhenn, he'll be loathe to make a move against me for quite some time. You have more than adequately fulfilled your half of our bargain."

Sabal bowed her head in polite acknowledgement, her harsh expression not softening even a little. "And your half, Laird Thuldark?" she inquired.

The duergar nodded. "Jaeger Holt is a diabolist of some power, I believe, of course in secret," Durna said.

Linnan held his breath and stayed quiet, but the others were more than happy to make noise.

"Lord Holt?" Camran said, eyes widening. "You are mistaken, Laird. Jaeger Holt is a good and honest man."

"I know him. He is a servant of Lady Alustriel," Nendir said in heated agreement. "This must be—"

Both the human and the elf found their words suddenly withering when Sabal leveled a ferocious glare at them. It was almost impossible to even look in her direction, let alone keep talking.

"The spell components and alchemical reagents he purchases on a regular basis suggest otherwise," Durna said with a shrug. "I am merely relaying my understanding of the man. You may supplement what I know with your own deep, intimate knowledge of him." There was a definite note of sarcasm there. The duergar looked back at Sabal. "His agent arrived here only a day before you. What his motivations are, I could not begin to tell you. He has, however, been collecting a sizable amount of spell components, easily enough to have an army of summoned fiends at his command should he choose to utilize them for such a purpose. He is a well connected man on the surface between his allies in Waterdeep and his allies in Silverymoon. He divides his time equally between the two cities. I would suspect from the lawful nature of the man that he has been consorting with devils rather than demons."

Aly bit her lower lip as she considered this. How on earth did this man know already that someone had been sent, let alone who. Yvonnel would not have told anyone even within the Yath'Abban. Scrying was a possible answer, but he would have had to know where to look. She suspected that if what Durna said about the man was true, he clearly had a powerful infernal patron capable of scrying across planes that was paranoid enough to watch demonic movements. She had a sinking feeling that there was much more going on here than they'd initially realized. She looked over at Sabal, who was quietly reflecting on this.

The amber-eyed drowess turned her head to look at Camran and Nendir. "Tell me, what does Jaeger Holt look like?"

"He is a human man with dark hair and blue eyes. His nose is hooked, like a hawk's," Nendir said. His anger at the drowess was quickly returning. That she would so readily accept the besmirchment of a noble name like Jaeger Holt's...it infuriated him. "He is a good man from a good family who has done much for the Silver Marches. I refuse to believe—"

"Then refuse," Sabal snapped, stepping into the elf's personal space so aggressively that he almost fell over trying to step back quickly enough. "But if you continue to suggest that our host, who is so generously not imprisoning you again, is misinformed or lying, I will rip out your tongue and force it down your throat so that you can properly eat your words."

"Sabal," Aly said reproachfully. It had no visible effect on the wilder. The wizard knew that her lover was upset by the knowledge that their enemy already was preparing for them. Nor did Sabal have the best tolerance for their surface dwelling companions.

Durna chuckled. She was appreciative of the manners Sabal was displaying, as well as grateful that it wasn't her on the recieving end of Sabal's temper. She had heard that wilders, as rare as diamonds in the rough, were prone to displays of awe-inspiring displays of emotion-fueled powers. This could easily turn into such a thing if Nendir pushed it. However, the surface elf appeared a little too shocked by the sudden forcefulness to have a good response. "I'm flattered," the duergar said. "Your companion's description of the man is quite accurate, at least if my sources are to be believed."

Sabal let out a hiss of breath. It was entirely possible then that this was the man who had sent the imp. If she looked into Nendir's memories, she would know for certain, but she knew that Aly would be incredibly displeased with her if she did so. The constraint was annoying, but expected. "Then we will find this man," she said flatly. Her tone left no room for doubt or hesitation. It was as simple as she had said. She would locate him, she would reach him, and she would kill him. As far as she was concerned, this was in the service of Lloth and that left no room for wavering. If her companions didn't like it, well...that was Aly's problem.

"The name of the merchant in my employ who deals with his people is Drustan Whelan. He's an outlander—human—who maintains a legitimate business selling arcane supplies in Silverymoon. His dealings with Holt are very much under the table. Drustan is reliable. There's not enough coin under the sun to buy his loyalty. He knows that he can't spend it if he's dead," Durna said pleasantly, ignoring everyone but Sabal. "I suggest you talk to him."

"You understand that you may lose a valuable customer in all of this," Sabal said with a slight raise of an eyebrow.

"I would rather lose one paying client than lose all of them at the hands of Yvonnel X'larraz'et'soj. My trade with Menzoberranzan and my life are much more valuable to me than one surfacer," the duergar laird said frankly. She offered a small bow of her head. "I am gratified that we reached a transaction that pleased both of us. However, I have business to attend to. Please convey my wish of continued good health to the Revered Daughter when you next speak to her."

"Of course, Laird Thuldark," the inquisitor said, again offering the duergar a polite bow. She looked up at her companions. There was going to be a lot to talk about. There was only one thing they needed to understand as quickly as possible. When Camran opened his mouth, she hissed, "Not here."

Alystin cleared her throat. "On the road it is," the wizard said to smooth things over.

* * *

"Psionics? Like mindflayers?" Camran asked almost incredulously as he rolled out his bedroll. Sabal had explained in her brusque way not only what she and Durna had talked about, but what she had done to the dwarf. It still chilled the priest to the bone. She'd enjoyed that far, far too much as far as he was concerned. Nendir was more upset by the notion that Lord Holt was their intended target.

"Yes," Aly said softly, her worried glance darting back and forth between the cleric and the elven ranger. "But Sabal doesn't use her powers like a mindflayer would." Usually, she added silently in her own thoughts. It was disturbing to see her lover bend another person to her will, but it was sometimes necessary. Alystin understood necessity.

"You're just going to let her kill a good man?" Nendir demanded. "I don't care that she's half mindflayer. I won't let her just march in there and—"

"So the army of fiends wreaking havoc across the countryside doesn't bother the elf at all," Sabal said dryly as she ran a whetstone down the edge of her sword. They were a day out from Gracklstugh, but they'd left the main road to follow Nede's maps towards the surface.

"It never occurred to you that she might be lying?" the elf snapped.

Sabal raised an eyebrow, as if silently asking whether or not he was serious. "What reason does Durna Thuldark have to lie?" she asked instead of snapping at him, almost amused. Almost. "What would she gain? Would she willingly sacrifice a paying customer if she thought it could be avoided? The laird is not a fool, nor is she a monster. She is hard-hearted, yes, but she is also practical and reasonable. Profit matters to her. Blind suspicion is no more helpful than blind trust, elf."

Their wizard sighed a little and sat down next to the small fire hidden in its crevice in the stone. Storunn had wisely concealed it to keep it from the eyes of any potential predators out here in the Wilds. Civilization ended where the city did. Large beasts were not usually inclined to come so close to Gracklstugh, of course, but there were exceptions to that rule and none of them wanted to take any risk that could be easily avoided. "Nendir, Sabal isn't going to just wade in and wave her sword around. We will investigate. If he's not the man Durna says he is, he has nothing to fear from us," the mage said reasonably.

Nendir nodded, settling down a little bit at that. He wasn't happy with it, nor with the way Sabal had so casually killed the poor duergar guard, but he would hold off on arguing. If the drow did anything even remotely similar when they were on the surface, where life wasn't so cheap, he would gladly deliver her into the arms of the law.

He glared at the drow until Storunn nudged his boot. "Get yer kit, lad," the dwarf said. "Gonna get some learnin' in ye."

The memory of the beating he'd recieved from Sabal still stung even though the bruises had vanished after a good healing spell. All the same, Nendir stood up. "Fine, but you're teaching me, Storunn. Camran can enjoy Sabal's loving attentions," the elf said. What he didn't realize was that Storunn was barely gentler than the drowess at all. In a few minutes, he was practically deaf from the shouting and his arms ached from the powerful blows against his blade as Storunn checked how safe each guard was by battering on it. Whenever his guard slipped, he was rewarded by a nasty bruise from the same broken-off stick that Sabal had used on him. Storunn had cut it into halves so it was two pieces of about axe-length.

Sabal couldn't help a little grin as she watched. There was something satisfying about watching Nendir get the tar beaten out of him. Then she looked over at Camran and nodded to him. He was confused when instead of picking up her blunted practice blade, she picked up a handful of small, thumbnail-sized rocks from the edge of the cavern wall. "You will cast your spells," Sabal ordered. "I will attempt to break your concentration. In combat, chaos is everywhere. You must maintain a clear mind even in the face of pain."

It was an exercise Xullae had done with her many times to teach her focus. It was only at Sorcere where she had learned that the same skill was valuable to casters. Camran went to cast and one of the pebbles came sailing at him, hitting him in the chest hard enough to raise a welt. He yelped. Sabal was moving now, circling around him back and forth. Every time he tried to cast, a stone would either hit him or whiz very, very close to him.

Alystin smiled a little as she watched, remembering that exercise all too well. It stung, no matter how much Sabal insisted she was going more gently than her own mentor had with her. "They'll be fine," she assured Linnan, who was looking up worriedly from the gear he was servicing.

Nendir and Linnan hadn't had armor or weapons, so the group had tried to equip them on the way out of town. It meant armor that needed fitting and blades that needed sharpening. The halfling had taken to that task, carefully cinching his new svirfneblin armor's straps and honing many, many small daggers that would be hidden about his person. "I guess they mean well," Linnan said. "I'm surprised they're not jumping on us."

"Sabal wants them trained to defend us, so we can do what we do best," Alystin explained. "Besides, she trusts me as a combatant even if she doesn't like leaving my side on the battlefield. You aren't expected to stand and fight like Nendir or cast in the thick of it like Camran."

"Fair enough," the halfling agreed, brushing his dark hair out of his face. It was just long enough to get into his eyes, giving him a shaggy look. "You really think Holt is a bad egg?"

Alystin shrugged. "If Sabal says that he is with such certainty, I am inclined to believe her. It's possible she's mistaken, but not likely," she said. Sabal had a reason for her vehemence, even if she hadn't shared it. She always did. Aly wasn't inclined to ignore her lover's instincts, even irritated and uncomfortable as Sabal was.

The training whiled away part of the evening before dinner was ready. Sabal, Storunn, Aly, and Linnan kept watch so that their two beaten companions could sleep a full night in the endless darkness that was the Underdark. The discussion over dinner had been a little less hostile, mostly because Camran and Nendir were both too tired to raise a fuss.

Linnan sat next to Sabal on their watch, the silence unbroken save for the scrape of a blade against a whetstone. He'd never really taken a watch with anyone else—on the run it had been either him sleeping or Nendir—and he didn't really know what to say as far as conversation with the drowess. She seemed comfortable enough in the silence. "Do you miss Menzoberranzan?" he said finally.

Amber eyes focused on him in the dark. "Why should I miss it?" she asked.

"Well, it's your home, isn't it?"

Sabal pursed her lips. The only thing she really missed when she was out on the road was Aly, and on this trip they were together. She supposed that in some small way she now missed Nede and Ryld and even—frighteningly—Yvonnel, but that was not the same as missing Menzoberranzan. "I have spent much of my life away from Menzoberranzan, on the road for one reason or another," Sabal said after a moment's hesitation. "The whole of the Underdark is my home. So no, I do not miss the City of Spiders." There was a brief pause and then she added, "I do, however, miss my bed."

Linnan grinned. "Sleeping on the rock is a lot harder than sleeping on loam on the surface. You'll miss it less up there."

The drowess gave him a skeptical look. "We will see," she said.


	4. First Steps

Even inside her armor, Sabal shivered as they made their way up the very last of the tunnels to the surface. She was used to the constancy of caves, their temperature moderately chilled. This was something far, far colder and it only intensified as they neared the end of the caves. "Goddess," she hissed under her breath through chattering teeth, wrapping her piwafwi tighter around her body. The dark cloak was thick and soft, which did something to mitigate the chill. She could see Aly trembling as well when she glanced back over her shoulder. "What is this bitter cold?" Her breath formed a puff of frost in front of her lips.

"Winter," Storunn said with a chuckle as they stepped out of the cave.

A thick blanket of white covered the countryside, muffling even their crunching footfalls. The world was silent, trees black against a midnight sky. Ice adorned the branches, icicles forming where droplets of water dripped towards the ground. The sky above was a veil of velvet indigo embroidered with billions of silver stars and banded with deep violet nebulae. The moon was a silver crescent that hung suspended in the midnight air. It was like nothing Sabal had ever seen. The desolation was almost like the Underdark now, a far more inviting sight than the riotous spring night she had experienced on her last hunt up to the surface. The silence in particular was comforting. Now if only it wasn't so cold.

They were in mountains, mountains so tall they scraped the very sky itself. Giant, craggy peaks of stone swathed in wreaths of cloud and snow towered above and left Sabal feeling irritatingly small. She was grateful that she wasn't alone, despite her lingering disdain for the majority of her companions. She heard Aly pull in a sharp breath when she stepped out. "I don't like the cold," the wizard said with a frown, her pale cheeks and nose turned rosy by the chill.

"I forget that you spent your whole life in the depths, Aly," Camran said with a chuckle. "Winter is fun, even amidst the cold. You'll like it. My brothers and I used to hurl snowballs at each other in weather like this."

The mage made a face even as her teeth chattered. She wished she had her own piwafwi. Unfortunately, it would have ruined her disguise to be walking around with a drow noble's cloak, so she'd left it reluctantly at home. The woolen cloak she had acquired in Rockhollow was a little too thin for the harsh breath of winter. She took a few steps before she felt a cloak being wrapped around her shoulders—Sabal's. "You'll freeze," the wizard protested.

"I have had worse," Sabal said with certainty. This was not the abysmal heat of the fiery caverns beneath the heart of a mountain, nor the noxious stench of sulphurous pits. Besides, it made her feel better to know that if something went wrong, Aly needed only pull up the hood and she would be nearly invisible, even here on the surface. "Keep it, at least until we can find you something warmer."

Nendir raised an eyebrow at the drow's display of generosity, a little bit surprised. He supposed he shouldn't have been. Aly seemed to be the only one Sabal treated with a modicum of true friendliness. The scarred woman was also the wizard's bodyguard, so it made sense that she would see to the wellbeing of her charge. It puzzled him a little even still, though.

As if she sensed his eyes on her, the amber-eyed drowess shot him a lethal glare and trudged forward through the snow, gritting her teeth as she steeled herself against the cold. It was miserable, but she would endure through sheer force of will alone if nothing else. Behind her, Alystin smiled despite her worry. The whole interaction was very...Sabal.

"At least we've got no snow falling and no wind," Linnan said with what sounded like an attempt at cheer. The halfling was miserable in the deep snow. It seemed to thin out down on the lower slopes, but here among the peaks it was near thigh-height on the little thief. Deeper drifts could easily come up to his chest.

"Walk behind Storunn and I," Sabal advised. Between her and the dwarf, they were plowing through the snow. "How are we going to camp when the world is so frozen?" She rubbed some snow between her fingers only to see it melt away into...water? The drowess scowled. Whatever sorcery this was, she did not approve.

"Not all of the world will be covered in ice," Nendir said confidently. He pointed out a crevice in the rocks. "That looks like a cave. If it has room, it should be acceptable, I trust?"

"With a fire? I think it'd do us good," Aly said. It was a long, grueling hike through the cold white as the group slogged forward. Walking behind Sabal and Storunn made it easier, but the two fighters were exhausting themselves in the effort. After a good ten minutes, the mage noted that the snow had been crushed down in the area already as they neared the cave. "We aren't the only travelers to have taken refuge, it looks like."

The cave had a narrow opening, but widened out into a large cavern about seventy feet deep. There was the blackened remains of someone else's fire and a hole in the roof created by dripping water that formed a natural chimney, allowing only the barest hints of moonlight through. The relative darkness was a welcome change for Sabal. The first thing her eyes settled on was the cave walls. These were not unmarked—there were hundreds of handprints, large and small, in ochre or some similar pigment. A baleful red eye, its pupil painted clouded as if by a cataract, occupied much of the rear wall. Crude writing on the walls immediately identified the artists, at least to her. That eye, then, was Gruumsh's. "Orcs," Sabal murmured. She knew their language, as orcs were found in the depths even if their numbers were far less there than on the surface. More than a few had found themselves slaves or mercenaries in service to the drow. The drowess walked up to the wall and reached out, running her fingers lightly over the crude writing. "Thur-Vadoksog." _The Cage of Exiles._ This was a refuge for orcs cast out by their tribe, if she had to guess. Sabal stepped in the remains of another fire and frowned. There were likely a fair few, if this was any indication.

"The ashes are a few days old," Nendir said, oblivious to her whispered realization. "There's wood in here that looks dry. They must have stacked it up."

"They intend to return, then," Camran said. He looked up and squinted into the darkness. "What's wrong, Sabal?" He heard an irritated noise from the shadows, indication that she'd caught what he said. Maybe she was annoyed that he hadn't been able to immediately understand her muttering, he guessed.

Sabal sensed a flash of fear outside, followed quickly by anger. Her quick scan was cursory, but she sensed multiple minds. By her estimate, there were enough to be a warband...that meant twelve to fifteen of the creatures. Orcs were large and powerful. A battle would not go well even if their small group was victorious over the band of orcs. Sabal was war-like herself, but she knew not to waste resources in a pointless battle. "We are not alone," the drowess said as she fished the hood that was not connected to her piwafwi out of her bag and put it on to cover her white hair and dark face. "The owners of this place are outside. They are not pleased with the presence of intruders." Without really waiting for a response, she strode out of the cave and into the biting cold.

Alystin did not like the sound of that. She followed all the same, tempted to ready a spell as she went. Linnan walked after her, one hand on his shortsword, while Camran took a moment to call a small light into being so that he could see in the night. Alystin was fortunate she had a ring that granted her darkvision. At least, that was what she'd told him. "What do you think it is?" Linnan asked.

Sabal was not the only one who had made note of the paintings, even if Aly didn't know their significance or who they belonged to. She had a feeling that she was about to find out. "I don't know. I just hope that they're understanding," she said quietly to the halfling. "The last thing we need is a fight." The mage was exhausted from a day of travel, especially since she'd spent the last part of their march slogging through snow.

Nendir jogged ahead to catch up with their surly drow out among the drifts. By the time he arrived, there was no sign of her. It left him with an uneasy feeling. The stillness seemed altogether too quiet and he found himself wondering if the drowess had finally decided to spring the inevitable trap. Maybe these were drow allies of hers. It was a wild thought and he quickly banished it, but he hadn't been able to help his knee-jerk suppositions. "Sabal!" he called.

Sabal was leaning against a tree just out of sight, her dark armor blending with the black bark and the shadows cast by thick, snow-covered branches. She could see the large figures of orcs approaching Nendir with surprising stealth for their size. The elf seemed unware of them, busy trying to locate her. She kept watching as the rest of the group emerged from the cave. They had a brief conversation, voices too low for her to catch from her hiding place. Then a branch snapped as an orc stepped on it and the group froze. For the first time, they were aware that they were surrounded on all sides save for the cave to their back. A trap.

Sabal heard the orc call out in his guttural tongue and the others drew weapons. Her companions did the same and a fight seemed inevitable. Before it could break out, however, Sabal reached out. _Stop_ , she projected, as much sensation as command. This was an easy way to communicate in several languages at once. Everyone froze, trying to determine where the soundless sound was coming from.

Only Aly knew that it had been said in her thoughts. The others were looking around for the source of the voice. The mage felt distinctly reassured as she looked up at the orcs. All of them appeared to be male, brutish and hairy with grey skin and jutting tusks. They dressed in furs and roughly worked iron, painted in shades of red and black, and decorated themselves with fragments of animal teeth and bone. She had seen orcs before, though only as slaves and mercenaries in Menzoberranzan. That did not make the sight any more pleasant. They definitely appeared dangerous and she knew from reputation that they were formidable warriors. The notes Nede had sent along with the maps mentioned savage hordes of orcs in the north that posed significant threat to the human, elven, and dwarven settlements in the area. Sabal's voice was immensely reassuring.

 _We are not your enemy, Laug Thauk_ , Sabal said from her place in the shadows, watching the orc leader intently. She only knew his name because she had learned it from the thoughts of his fellows with a quick, cursory look.

"Show yourself, witch," the orc said in Common, though not in a particularly hostile tone. He spoke it roughly, with a heavy accent, but he still could be clearly understood by the group before him. Sabal understood it only because she simply read his thoughts. Her grasp of Common was tenuous at best, though it was improving just by being around the surface-dwellers. She learned quickly, however, as she was able to associate words with the feelings and thoughts of others. So far, she was becoming quite proficient in understanding even if her accent was still thick when she spoke. Oddly, the common language for their small group was Elven. Nendir hadn't dared to ask how their drow came to know it. He was, perhaps rightly, afraid of the answer.

 _I wish to speak with you. I would much rather do so in a place where you can't make hasty assumptions_ , Sabal said calmly. Her tone was reasonable enough, something that no doubt took her companions by surprise. This was a conversation that she was making everyone in the area privvy to. No need to make things unnecessarily cloak-and-dagger.

"I am listening," the orc said. He was a dark, towering figure beneath the moon with bestial yellow eyes that reflected back the light. He carried a sword of human make that was likely a prize of battle and wore the skin of a bear like a cloak. Its paws fit over his hands and Sabal could see a gleam of sharpened iron where its claws had once been. Bits of carved bone hung across his chest, rattling faintly as he moved restlessly through the clearing. He had almost as many scars as Sabal did, visible beneath the whorls of red paint across his skin.

 _We are travelers_ , Sabal said. _We bear you no ill will, nor do we intend harm. We seek refuge from the cold. Would you permit us to stay in this place, or must we find a new campsite?_

"Stay," the orc grunted. "Talk. You must help us."

Sabal was a little bit surprised at that, but she didn't show it. _We will listen to your troubles and perhaps we will help you._

"Of course we'll help," Camran said, his expression now friendly rather than nervous when he looked up at the burly orc.

The drowess bit back a groan of frustration. _Foolish boy_ , she snapped, this time only in the thoughts of their group. _Only an idiot leaps into a lake without testing the waters first._ Sabal stepped out of the shadows, lips pursed into an irritated line as she emerged—hooded and shrouded—from the trees. She sauntered over through the line of gathered orc warriors, completely unperturbed by them. They were not the most frightening thing she had ever encountered, not by far. The honor of that position rested squarely in the hands of Lloth and her servants. Sabal was afraid of very few things, but she did fear the Spider Queen's wrath. She had seen too often what it could do.

"You are the one who speaks," Laug said. Sabal actually had to tilt her chin up so that she could look at him.

 _Yes,_ the amber-eyed drowess confirmed. He would not be able to tell that her lips weren't moving, thanks to her hood.

The orc waved to his warband, who all relaxed. "Then we speak," he said firmly. "You must help us."

Nothing was discussed until fires were lit and food was broken out. The group's traveling rations were beginning to look meager, but the orcs were willing to share the meat they had. Aly just wasn't certain that she was willing to eat it. She sniffed suspiciously at the strips of dried meat and hoped to the gods that it was venison.

"Eat it, Aly. We don't want them to think we don't appreciate their hospitality," Camran said encouragingly. "Linnan and I already have."

"Because the pair of you are bastions of good sense," Sabal sniped sarcastically.

"Yer in rare form," Storunn said with a chuckle, sitting down next to Sabal. He was chewing on a piece of the orc's game meat.

Nendir joined them and sat down. He glanced over at Laug and the other orcs. "Do you trust them?" he asked his group.

"As much as I trust you," the amber-eyed drowess said irritably. She was sitting so close to the fire that she looked like she might catch alight, her armor damp from the snow. There was a small amount of steam rising from her boots. The fire was finally warming her up, but she was still feeling the after-effects of her chill.

Aly was faring much better with the addition of the piwafwi. She was still bundled up in it even though the cave was getting warm. It put the mage in relatively good spirits. "If they want our help, they're less inclined to hurt us," Aly said. "We're not their enemy, Nendir. I think Laug has seen that, even if he doesn't think he can trust us. In his position, I'd be wary too. Sabal says she thinks they're outcasts."

"They are. And og'elenden at that," Sabal said. She gestured to the wall. "That is the eye of Gruumsh...painted blind. These orcs do not follow him. I would suspect they have thrown their allegiance to another. Perhaps Tempus."

"You know surface gods?" Aly said with mild surprise, smiling at her lover. "You never cease to impress, Sabal."

"The Yath-Abban, for all its flaws, was quite rigorous in my religious education after Arach-Tinilith," Sabal explained, looking a bit mollified by the compliment. It seemed to have improved her mood a little.

"What is an og'elenden?" Linnan asked curiously.

"Heretics," Alystin explained. "Og'elenden is plural. A heretic would be an og'elend."

"You are right," Laug said as he approached, large feet making surprisingly little noise even on the stone. He moved like a ranger, probably well enough to give even the elven Nendir a run for his money. He also appeared to understand the language they used quite well, though he spoke in Common. "We follow Tempus, not Gruumsh. We are cast-offs, the runts and weaklings of the tribes. We came here to the mountains to make a home, but we run afoul of the soft peoples as well as the beasts of hill and dale." The powerfully built orc crouched down beside them, his yellow eyes lit by the leaping flame.

Camran wanted to say that they should have no such trouble from others, but he knew that their orc blood would be a serious obstacle for others to overlook, perhaps too serious for many locals to understand. He nodded instead. "I am sorry, Laug."

The orc shrugged. "They are savages," he said of the humans and other races that generally referred to themselves as civilized. "It is their nature."

The group of travelers looked a little stunned at that, save for Sabal and Aly, who both dissolved into laughter at the expression on their companions' faces. "They are, aren't they?" the drowess said, her wicked grin hidden beneath her shrouding. She liked this orc.

Laug nodded sagely, the carved bone figures that dangled across his chest rattling a little with the movement. He paused and leaned in towards Sabal, pulling in a deep breath. "You smell of the caves, hooded one. I have known humans and elves and halflings before. What are you?"

"Someone as maligned as your people," Sabal said wryly. "And with reason." She pulled back her hood to let her white hair spill free. There was a sudden silence as every orcish head swiveled to take her in.

"You are a spider-child," Laug said respectfully. After he spoke, the others relaxed. There was mistrust in their eyes, but it was tempered by a healthy dose of caution and the expectation that she would be a dangerous foe. They were not wrong.

"Your manners are an improvement over those of most," Sabal said with a pleased smile. She liked the term 'spider-child'. It was so much more flattering than the other names people had given her race. It didn't surprise her that the orcs were more welcoming, as they had their own evil reputation and history. They could likely sympathize, even if she had potentially just lost their trust by revealing herself. Even orcs were no friends to drow.

"Your people are treacherous, spider-child, but they are cunning and strong. They spin webs like their mother. Perhaps you could catch our foes in yours," Laug said thoughtfully, stroking one of his ivory tusks. He took a deep breath and continued soberly, "Our village was razed two days ago. We are the last. The hunters were not men nor beasts, but something other. Boots upon the ground, but claws rending flesh."

"Devils?" Alystin suggested, her silver eyes pensive.

Laug nodded his large, shaggy head solemnly. "I think so. The village reeked of metal and brimstone. It is a day south from here, should you need to see. We did what could be done. Now, we are bound north, to warn our kinsmen. We are exiles, but fiends running free...even those who follow One-Eye will wish to know." There was a definite note of loss to his tone when he mentioned the village.

"We're here to stop the devils," Nendir said. He felt a twinge of genuine sympathy for the orc when he heard what had happened to his home and his people. "We will make certain that they do not harm anyone ever again. It won't bring back what you lost, Laug, but maybe the souls of your people will rest easier knowing that justice will be done."

Sabal pursed her lips, annoyed. She wanted to point out that they were dead, so they weren't likely to care about anything, least of all justice—she found the surface idea of justice hypocritical at best so far anyway—but Aly was giving her a stern look. "Did you see any sign of where these attackers went?" Sabal asked instead of saying anything too likely to inflame things.

"Back towards the cities of men," Laug rumbled. "If they are responsible, I will bring a fire on them like they have never seen."

"One man may be responsible, but not all of them," Camran said as a note of reason. "Punishing the whole of the area would only cause more problems for your people."

The orc's yellow eyes focused intently on the priest for a moment, but then he nodded. "There is wisdom in what you say, human. While the love of battle is strong in my people, we are few and they are many."

"We can take care of this man," Alystin said with confidence. She wasn't certain, but she knew she needed to pretend to be for everyone else's sake.

Laug looked at the group and then nodded again. "You have seen many battles, I think," the orc said. His eyes rested on Sabal and Storunn in particular. The dwarf was being quiet and his eyes were suspicious, but he wasn't being hostile. Both had the look of seasoned warriors. "But you should be wary, spider-child. Your people have been raiding from the depths in this area. There are many who would like revenge."

Alystin sighed. "Lovely," she murmured. "I wish you would let me disguise you, Sabal." She knew it was a mistake when Sabal's jaw tightened. Her lover had been smoldering with anger for some time and even the smallest thing was inclined to set her off.

However, the wilder showed admirable restraint. She just made a sharp noise of disapproval instead of storming off to simmer down. "Is it not enough that I have shed the trappings of who I am?" Sabal snapped.

Linnan, who was sitting between them, felt a sudden urge to get up and move. It was the first time he'd seen them at odds and he didn't like the way Alystin's eyes narrowed in response. The halfling looked up at Nendir and Camran with anxiety and noted that their expressions actually matched his. "I'm certain we can find some work-around. The hood is a start, at least," Nendir said uneasily. He didn't like the idea of tangling with a Sabal not restrained by Alystin's opinion. Better to try for peace if possible. "If we steer clear of the smaller villages where people are more inclined towards superstition and suspicion, we should have fewer problems."

This time it was Aly who let out a small huff of anger. "Fine," she said. She knew Sabal was clinging fiercely to her identity in this strange place,but it was to the point of unnecessary risk. The sheer stubborness irritated her, along with being the recipient of one of Sabal's snaps. Aly didn't feel like her request was particularly unreasonable.

"I'll take first watch," Sabal said instead of responding to Nendir or Aly, standing up abruptly and heading out into the cold to join the orc already standing guard.

"Sometimes, she's completely insufferable," Aly muttered.

"Agreed," Camran said. "But perhaps it's better to let her sulk in peace."

Laug chuckled. "Pride, that one, as many spider-children," he said with amusement. "My father told me stories. He was once a slave among them in a great city of spiders." He stood up. "That is all for this night. In the morning, we will part ways."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Nendir said a little bit stiffly. He was still uncomfortable around the orcs. They were not much more friendly than the drow towards elves, though the band here did not follow Gruumsh.

The orc war-leader shrugged and then strode over to his bundle of furs that served as a bedroll.

Their small group quickly learned that the only thing louder than the raucous noise of waking orcs was the snoring, sleeping version. Nendir lay awake, looking up at the cave ceiling. Linnan had already drifted off to sleep and Storunn was giving the orcs a run for their money in the competing volume of snores. Camran was dead to the world as well, but that was how he always slept. The priest was not a light sleeper in the slightest. Nendir rolled over onto his side. He could see Aly's eyes open and thoughtful. "Are you alright?" he asked the wizard.

Alystin sighed. She was already wishing she could curl up with Sabal. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option. Not only were they under scrutiny, but knowing the wilder, she would probably still be irritated even in the morning. It had been weeks since she last touched Sabal more than a brief brush of shoulders or hands when no one was watching and she was feeling it. So was her lover—that anger did not come from nowhere. "Fine, Nendir," she said. "I just don't like arguing with Sabal."

"The two of you seem close...or at least as close as anyone can ever be with her," he observed quietly.

"We've just known each other a long time and we've been in a lot of fights on the same side," Aly said dismissively, feeling a flutter of nerves. She didn't like the idea of this surface elf being too aware of her relationship with Sabal. A friendly trust she supposed was fine, but knowing that it ran deeper would be dangerous. "It takes work to be on her good side and even that's no guarantee that she won't bite. But once she trusts you, she'll have your back through everything."

"Loyalty is not a trait I hear of among the drow," Nendir said. "Not unless you speak of Do'Urden."

"Drow are not some monolith, Nendir," Alystin said patiently. "Sabal may be in the minority, but not all drow are as treacherous as you would imagine. They are more complicated than the surface would like to believe. A healthy dose of caution is warranted all the same, granted. I'll be the first to readily admit that drow are dangerous."

The elf nodded. He certainly saw his companion as dangerous. Thankfully, Sabal's violent inclinations were largely directed towards the world outside of their little group—unless they were training. Then he very much felt her ire, just as Camran did. The two were still covered in bruises from their last encounter, as Aly hadn't wanted to use spells just to heal superficial wounds. The mage seemed to think of the surface as more dangerous than the Underdark, though perhaps that wasn't without reason. She had never really experienced the surface world according to her own admission. Camran had mentioned she was a slave in Menzoberranzan. He did not envy her that. Besides, Sabal would attract danger...likely just the way she wanted to. Their drow had walked with a chip on her shoulder the size of a redwood tree, at least since Gracklstugh.

"Goodnight, Aly," he said quietly before closing his eyes. "I'm certain the snow will cool Sabal off."

Outside, Sabal stared out into the night. Clouds were drifting across the sky and forming an overcast layer, blocking out the moon and rendering the world darker. She was perched on a cleft of stone swept free of snow by the wind. Sabal had her piwafwi wrapped tightly around her body again. It was tempting to pull the hood up and just disappear beneath the magic of the cloak. However, there was something refreshing about cold air on her dark skin. More than anything else, Sabal hated the uncertainty of the surface world. Battle, she understood. It was universally simple. The idea of dancing around the prejudices of the surface dwellers themselves was galling to her. She was _drow_. She did not exist to please anyone who walked under the goddess-forsaken daystar.

"Greetings again, spider-child," Laug rumbled out as he approached from the cave. They were a short distance away from the entrance, out of the light. His footsteps were as quiet now as they had been earlier when he crept up on Nendir. Sabal suspected that he was a ranger of some variety, perhaps unusual for an orc in his connection to nature.

"Greetings." She didn't want to say anything, though she wasn't opposed to listening to someone else talk. Perhaps that would be better than the relentless pounding of her own thoughts against the inside of the walls around her mind.

"You are quiet in the way of someone who carries a heavy weight," Laug said. He paused a moment before continuing, "More than the weight of being a stranger in a strange land. It is the darkness that lives in you."

"I'd be careful who you say that in earshot of," Sabal said with a thin smile.

"Your companions do not know you," Laug said understandingly. "They do not know of the scars they cannot see."

Sabal's amber eyes narrowed slightly. The orc was altogether too perceptive, but at least he didn't seem hostile about it. Still, it made her grateful that they would be parting ways in the morning. "But you know of them?" she said with a hint of acid to her tone.

Laug chuckled. "No," he said. "Only that they are there. Do you worry about the fiends too? Or is it only ghosts?"

"Their master worries me far more than they do," Sabal said, turning her face towards the sky. "But I have no doubt that we are a foe to him that he is not prepared to handle, no matter what he thinks he knows." A thought occurred to her. "Laug, does the name Elénaril mean anything to you?"

The orc growled deep in his chest. "That name is a curse," he spat with a savage venom. "He is a blood foe to all orcs, he and all his wretched allies. Once, he marched against us and put to torch everything that crossed his path. Everything. But because he was victorious, they called him 'hero' for it, and now he dwells in the city on the sea. He is, to his core, infected by a black and festering rot."

"Is he a friend of Jaeger Holt?" Sabal asked quietly. They were closer now to Waterdeep than Silverymoon according to the maps and her companions, so that had become their destination. The drowess had her own reservations about the so-called City of Splendors, but she had said nothing.

Laug nodded. "Holt holds his leash," the orc explained. He stopped and considered Sabal for a long moment. "They are dark, spider-child."

Sabal smiled faintly in the shadows. "So am I."

* * *

Morning began to dawn ever so slowly without event, the hints of false dawn beginning to light the horizon. Aly was the first one awake—excluding Camran, who was out on the last watch. She rolled over to see Sabal sleeping fitfully in her bedroll. It wasn't like the inquisitor to have nightmares, but that was unmistakably what was going on. The mage got up and moved over to her lover's side, kneeling down beside the tossing and turning Sabal. The scarred drowess's face was contorted into a snarl even in her sleep. Aly leaned back—keeping her face well away from the amber-eyed drowess, in case the wilder came up swinging—and shook Sabal by her shoulder. "Sabal," she said softly, trying not to wake anyone else up.

That was all it took to shake the drowess out of sleep. Feral amber eyes snapped open, glaring out onto the world fully awake. "What?" Sabal demanded. Her expression softened slightly when she realized it was Aly. Those grey eyes reminded her that her nightmare wasn't real and that Aly was fine.

 _...standing in front of an obsidian throne, watched by an almost painfully beautiful, drow-like demon with blank white eyes...Alystin laying on the ground before the seat of power, body twitching as demonic features started to spread across her body: bat wings sprouting agonizingly from wounds in her back, fingers and toes twisting and cracking as they became claws, a sinuous tail growing before Sabal's eyes..._

 _..."You promised freedom!" Aly screamed._

 _The demon's lips curled into a smile. "Read the fine print," the creature purred..._

"It's early morning," the wizard said gently, combing her fingers through her brown hair. It was still disorienting to see herself in the mirror as a human, even after all this time. She was looking forward to an inn where she could be herself behind closed doors...and where she could be with Sabal. The wilderness was, quite frankly, miserable. She found out quickly that she was very much a city girl. Aly was not accustomed to life without creature comforts and she wasn't about to get used to the absence if it could be avoided.

Sabal pushed herself up to her feet. "I am going to go watch the sunrise," she said grimly. "My eyes will need the slow adjustment." It was not something she sounded like she was looking forward to. Before she went, however, she caught Aly's hand discretely and gave it a soft squeeze.

What was it that Yvonnel had said? _The Abyss will have its pound of flesh from her in its time_. Sabal had always known that Alystin's association with a demon lord would bear a price, just as her loyalty to Lloth had cost her dearly. How well could she protect Aly from the costs of her own decisions? It was a bitter thought.

"You look unhappier than usual," Camran said with concern when Sabal emerged. The drowess had immediately started to squint.

"Your sun is aggravating and will only be worse once it has risen fully," Sabal said with a lip curled in contempt. "Add to that the unpleasantness of mingling with unwashed orcs and four idiots, pursuit of marauding devils, and this insufferable cold. Then will you understand the source of my irritation."

Camran sighed, even though he would have been checking Sabal for possession or enchantments had she been anything less than a bitch. "You're a veritable beacon of cheer," the priest said.

"I am not here because I enjoy it," Sabal said irritably.

Aly emerged from the cave behind her. "This isn't the worst thing you've ever suffered through, Sabal," the mage pointed out without reproach. She was just grateful that Sabal's ire hadn't become focused on her.

"What is the worst thing you've suffered through?" Camran said curiously. He had a feeling that the drowess had seen more than her fair share of suffering, if even just the visible scars were something to go by.

The drowess sat down on the outcropping of stone that had been her perch the night before. "Storunn's cooking," she said, facing the east to watch the sun.

The light of the rising daystar became a burning agony for Sabal. When the full light struck her aching eyes, even though she had prepared them with gradual exposure, she found herself moving blind. Thankfully, she had learned to fight in supernatural darkness that was just as blinding as this light—though much less painful. It was a lesson she would be forever grateful to her mentor for. Alystin was barely better. Her ring granted her human vision in place of her drow sight, but this was still utterly foreign.

They bid their farewells to Laug and set off on their way. Camran guided the mage and the wilder along for the first hour until their eyes finally adjusted. He thought he saw Sabal look at him with something approaching gratitude, but that was probably a trick of the light. Nendir was leading the way towards civilization, while Storunn and poor Linnan slogged through the snow behind the light-footed elf.

"So you have family in Silverymoon, Nendir?" Alystin asked once she was no longer gritting her teeth against the pain.

"Yes. It's my home," the ranger said. He seemed to be in a genuinely good mood now that they were on the surface. "And Camran is from a village near Daggerford. We're both from this part of Faerûn. I've been to Waterdeep many times."

"I haven't," Camran admitted. "This venture is my first time away from home."

Alystin looked at him like he'd sprouted a second head. "Your first journey away from your birthplace was to _Menzoberranzan_?" she said incredulously.

Sabal muttered something unflattering about the young man's judgement under her breath as she forced her way forward through the snow after Storunn and Linnan. It wasn't as thick on the road, but it was still substantial. She had better things to do than grapple with the priest's utter lack of sense at that particular moment. If Alystin wanted to try, that was entirely up to her. Sabal figured that there would be plenty of opportunities to beat sense into him later.

Camran turned red. "Sune would not lead me astray," he insisted.

"There are any number of things that might have in the depths. One need not look only to your goddess," Alystin said.

Storunn chuckled up ahead. "The lad's fine, lass."

"Amazingly," Alystin said. She sighed. "Camran, you need to learn to think before you do things."

"There are wagons up ahead on the road. We might be able to go with them to the city, or at least to the next wayside inn," Nendir pointed out. "I've been this way before, though not from that cave entrance. There's a village a ways down the road, one of the few hints of civilization in the wilderness."

Sabal immediately wrapped her cloth shrouding around her face and then pulled her hood up. It left her featureless under the depths of the cowl save for the gleam of amber eyes. The covering had the added benefit of keeping her face and ears warm as well. "Somehow, Nendir, I believe your definition of civilization and mine radically differ," the drowess said. "For example, civilization has baths."

"I'm sure they'll have something," Nendir said reassuringly.

"I hope so," Aly said. She had to admit, she was looking forward to a chance to properly clean up with water that was actually hot. The chances of that weren't particularly high out here, though.

They stumbled out onto the road just in time to see the dead. The men they had seen were roughly dressed and ragged, their armor clearly scavenged and ill-fitting. Bandits, picking over the remains of their latest victims. There was a woman's scream from one of the carts. "Sabal?" Linnan said uncertainly.

The amber-eyed drowess looked over at Storunn and nodded before turning to the others. "This is where we see if the lessons are beginning to stick," the wilder said.

Nendir nodded and unslung his bow as Camran and Aly readied spells on the advance. Linnan circled around to the side, crouched down to stand out as little as possible. Sabal paralleled their halfling thief so he wouldn't be alone, while Storunn picked a target and went barreling into their midst. They had not been watching, and thus the bandits had not been expecting a dwarf to appear as if from nowhere...nor were they expecting a globe of supernatural darkness to drop on the area. Utter chaos erupted in the blink of an eye.

Sabal was the next to charge into the melee, with Linnan hot on her heels. She stepped up to take down one bandit and the halfling slid across the packed snow to get behind another one, plunging his dagger into the offending human's kidney.

It was not a fair fight by any stretch of the imagination, not with Alystin's magic missiles and Nendir's arrows picking off anyone who managed to escape their front-line warriors and dangerous rogue. For all his lack of strength, Linnan had the precision of a surgeon. He knew where to strike to do the maximum amount of damage, which was what allowed him to keep even with Sabal and Storunn. The drowess was not using her psionic abilities—she didn't feel the need. After only a minute or two, the last bandit was dead on the ground, his crimson blood staining the snow all around. Storunn's axe was buried in his head.

The sound of a woman sobbing drew Camran like a moth to flame. He found her in the wreckage of the foremost wagon, a pretty elven girl with tear-stained cheeks and frightened blue eyes. Her dress was ripped and her bodice torn, but he didn't think the bandit had managed to do the unthinkable. He crouched down and looked up at her, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. "We're not going to hurt you," he said comfortingly. "You're safe now. My name is Camran. I'm a priest of Sune. My friends and I will protect you." He held out his hand with a soft smile.

"Vanya," she whispered, allowing him to help her up. "Vanya Silivrenniel."

"We be collecting strays. Still, poor lass," Storunn said.

Sabal looked over at the dwarf and sighed. "The road literally cannot be short enough," the drowess muttered.


	5. The Spy

"Your friend seems very angry," Vanya said quietly, her eyes fixed on the hooded female figure who was stalking through the shallower snow ahead. They were following the road towards the village that was just ahead, its path offering less resistance than the hills around. The elven girl's face was the very picture of worry, her eyes still large with residual fear. The woman in dark, strange armor was not a reassuring picture even if she was apparently no bandit.

Vanya was a slender thing with wide blue eyes and rosebud lips. Her blonde hair was a little wind-tossed at the moment and her shoulders curled in like she was fearing a blow, but she was still beautiful. Nendir, Camran, and Linnan had done their best to reassure her, which had coaxed her out of her shell a little. Storunn was his gruff but friendly self and Aly had been cordial, if a little stand-offish. Sabal was the only one who had taken obvious issue with their new ward, though her irritation seemed more with Camran and Nendir—Vanya's two stalwart defenders—than the elf herself.

"You don't need to be afraid of her," Camran promised gently. He had been trying to take care of Vanya since they found her, which meant doing a lot of reassuring. She was vulnerable right now, which Sabal didn't seem to grasp. He sighed a little in relief all the same as he saw Aly and Storunn approaching the drowess. "Sabal is always like this. They'll talk her down."

Nendir snorted, but he didn't say anything. That was enough of a commentary on the likelihood of her settling down, in his opinion.

"I understand that you're upset," Alystin said even as she approached with caution. Sabal could be unpredictable in her moods. The amber-eyed drowess would never hurt her on purpose, but sometimes her powers manifested when she was angry enough and things ended up broken. Aly had lost one very nice vase that way. The last thing she wanted was to get hit with splinters from a tree or something. "Helping her could win us allies on the surface, Sabal, something we desperately need."

"Aye," Storunn agreed. "An' Camran be too busy makin' eyes to get in yer hair, too."

"It's nauseating," Sabal snapped. She could see the village appearing through the trees, half-timbered and half-stone buildings with thick thatched roofs and smoke rising from chimneys. "I agreed to help her to the village. We have done that. I see no reason to endanger ourselves or her by offering her safe passage to Silverymoon."

"Sabal, be reasonable. It's less than a week away according to Nendir and it's a place of interest. We could investigate while we're there. It's on the way to Waterdeep anyway," Alystin said. She could tell that Sabal was mulling those words over. "Besides, Silverymoon will have a bath, which is more than I can probably say for this place."

"If she is captured or killed by devils, be it on their heads," Sabal said, shooting a murderous glare towards the others. It was as close to agreement as Aly figured they would get.

Storunn moved to join with the others, leaving the two women some privacy as they walked ahead of the group. "Lass is a wee bit bent outta shape," the dwarf reported with a small nod to Vanya. "But she said aye in her own way."

"I am sorry if I have caused trouble for your group," Vanya said anxiously.

"You're just fine," Camran assured her.

Up ahead, Aly stopped Sabal for a moment. "What's actually bothering you?" she asked quietly.

 _The girl is lying to us_ , the wilder said quietly in Aly's mind. It was the sole way she knew of to keep their conversation perfectly private. _She may be Vanya Silivrenniel, daughter of a prominent merchant, or she may not be. But when she said she was merely returning to Silverymoon along this goddess-forsaken dirt path they call a road, I could feel the lie writhing red in her thoughts._

"What do you think the truth is?" the wizard asked. Suddenly, Sabal's reaction to Camran's guarantee of protection was beginning to make a lot more sense.

 _I assume the natural: she is a spy. Whose, I don't know. If I was allowed to see into her thoughts, I would know. However, while I can kill the idiots if they try to stop me—which they would—they are useful to you. So I haven't made an attempt. We would be better served getting rid of this girl as quickly as possible, one way or another._ Sabal sounded unmistakably frustrated. Aly wanted to put her arms around the wilder and kiss her until she forgot about what had irritated her. It was one of the most effective ways to snap the scarred drowess out of a mood. Their audience, however, made that dangerous.

"And there's no way to tell them that," Alystin said with understanding.

"Not that they would believe. They see what they wish to see. Truth has no bearing on the matter," Sabal replied before falling silent for a long few moments.

"I'm sorry, Sabal," Alystin said. She offered her lover a small smile. "Just...think of a hot bath, a warm meal, and a soft bed."

The wilder let out a long sigh, but nodded.

It took less than ten minutes longer to reach the village, which was fortunate because the sun was beginning to sink low on the horizon. It was surprisingly good-sized for its location, the woods breaking way into farmers' fields covered by snow. The population seemed mostly human with a few dwarves interspersed. Curious eyes watched the group as they came into town. They were used to strangers here, with the trade along the road, but the small party had come without wagons or goods. They were met at the edge of the village by a small force of militia in old, ill-fitting armor carrying a variety of weapons—some of which once served as farming implements. "Good e'en," the guard in charge said. He was a short, barrel-shaped man with powerful arms who didn't seem completely human or completely dwarven, but some mix of the two. "What brings you to Westerwood?"

"Bandits along the road," Alystin said, allowing some of her exhaustion to seep into her voice. The snow and the cold were miserable, though Sabal's piwafwi was keeping the worst of the chill at bay. "We're seeking safe rest for the night."

The man seemed to evaluate this, studying their equipment. They were better equipped than the average caravan guard, but then again, Aly and Vanya were both dressed in clothes of fine make. "These are your guards?" he guessed, looking them over. He focused on Sabal. "And your hooded friend?"

"Yes, they are our guards," Aly confirmed. "And you'll have to forgive my companion. She is hooded because she was burned badly as a girl and bears the marks still. Many people find her face...upsetting."

Nendir snickered, but Linnan kicked him in the shin to silence him before Sabal could whirl around and do him bodily harm. "Lads," Storunn said warningly, his hand resting on his axe.

Sabal actually wasn't bothered by the cover, though Nendir's amusement annoyed her. She kept her attention divided between Alystin and their new elven charge. It was better to just ignore them. Vanya was being quiet and smiling pleasantly at the new people even though her eyes were wary. Every once and a while, she would glance over at Sabal if trying to catch the drowess looking at her. Their wilder was a little bit more subtle in her observation than Vanya was prepared for, however.

The guard seemed satisfied after a few more questions, including about their destination. Alystin told him they were headed to Luskan, a little lie as much for Vanya to trip over as these locals. The guard let them pass in through the weathered wooden palisades. The streets of the town were the muddy brown of earth and snow churned together by hurrying feet and plodding hooves. The group made a beeline for the inn. It was a building of moderate size with two floors, one for the common area with the bar and one for the rooms. The interior was rustic, but pleasantly so. The furniture was all simple wood oiled for polish and the walls were painted a clean white. A fire burned in a hearth at either end of the building and dogs slumbered on the rugs in front of them. There were plenty of people—more than just the villagers, if their numbers and clothes were any indication—drinking and having a generally good time. They were not the only people that had come along the road, only these looked like legitimate merchants with guards rather than bandits. For one thing, they lacked the lean and hungry look of those hostile men. "It's very full in here," Camran said. "I doubt there will be many rooms available. It's not that large of an inn. We'll have to share."

Sabal growled something indistinctly in Drow and let Aly take the lead. She followed her lover, still surrounded by that strange little bubble of space. People didn't try to touch her. Aly, however...Sabal grabbed the first would-be wandering hand, before Aly even knew it was headed her way, and almost broke his fingers. There was a yelp from the man, followed by a tug that yanked him over backwards. His chair hit the floor with a bang.

"Oi, lass, ease off," Storunn called after her. "Ye be rilin' up fights. Not right ta be doin' that without a drink in yer hand."

If she'd heard him, Sabal gave no sign. She just followed after Aly and watched the mage buy them rooms. There were only two available. Once again, she would not be enjoying privacy with Aly, as there was no way she would be able to force Vanya into rooming with the boys. There just wasn't enough space. Worse than that was the pounding chaos of thoughts swirling all around them like a maelstrom of hopes and fears, battering at the walls of solitude that barely kept her power in check. Her restraint had faltered a little without her vows shackling her. It was still a strange absence, though her connection to the Demonweb was not gone completely. When it was still and quiet, if she reached into the darkest and deepest parts of her mind, she could feel the power of Lloth whispering at the edges of her thoughts. It was strange to find such a thing reassuring, considering how she had hated being bound. This was a scar of that wound, but she still found herself oddly glad of it. In a place like this, though, there was no chance of taking comfort in such a presence. She took the key to the room she would be sharing with Aly and Vanya, then stalked upstairs.

Aly passed Nendir the key to the room for him and the others. "Drop the gear off and then do as you please. Just take Vanya with you. Sabal's going to need some time to finish cooling down," the wizard said.

"Should I save you a seat?" he asked as Aly headed towards the stairs after her lover.

"No," Alystin said as she passed him. "I need to talk to her. It'll be a while." She smiled a little bit as she headed up the stairs. It might not be a night spent curled up in Sabal's arms, but a few hours without interruption—hopefully—were good enough for now. She slipped into the room after Sabal and locked the door behind herself with a murmured spell. She didn't trust the mechanical lock alone.

These were not the kind of accommodations she was used to. There wasn't even really a proper bed, just a few straw mattresses on a bare wood floor with a window to the outside and round wooden tub for water. But they were still beds and a bath, which made them a step up from the past few weeks. Sabal was already halfway through the task of taking off her armor, the hood and shrouding discarded on the floor. The inquisitor paused to check the bed for any suspicious insect life and, finding none, unrolled her bedroll on top to pad herself from the prickly straw that sometimes poked through the cloth cover. Aly set her bag down next to the wilder's and investigated the bath situation. Some kindly soul had already brought up hot water like she'd asked and Aly blessed them silently for it.

"You can have the bath first," Sabal said magnanimously. She'd cleaned up as much as she could along the road with the cold water, just like Aly, so it wasn't as though she was completely filthy. She heard paper crinkling behind her and then a familiar smell: Alystin's soap. Her mage had apparently brought a bar or two with her. It was a slightly spicy, cinnamon-like scent from a mixture of Underdark flora. Aly loved it and Sabal had grown incredibly fond of it herself. She would forever associate it and the vanilla scent of old tomes with the wizard. The wilder pulled off the last piece of her armor and added it to the pile.

Slender, dark hands untucked her shirt from behind and then slipped up beneath the fabric, ghosting their way around her waist. She was immediately conscious of the mage's curves pressing against her back and the warm breath against the side of her neck. "You need the chance to relax more than I do, _d'anthe_ ," Alystin whispered, continuing to let her hands reacquaint themselves with the scarred topography of Sabal's body. The wizard could feel the marks of blades across the shallow grooves of ribs, the long knotted lash-marks across the taut muscle of her stomach from a high priestess's whip in a duel, and the remains of wounds to her sides from crossbow bolts. Her fingers started to roam lower, dipping under the crimson silk of the sash across the wilder's hips.

Sabal smiled despite the sourness of her earlier mood and caught Aly's hands before turning around. The wizard was standing there in her actual form, skin like midnight and hair like snow, her lips forming a slight pout now that she'd been stopped. For a moment, Sabal didn't feel like she had to think about all of the things either going wrong or about to go wrong. She didn't feel like she had to try and teach Camran and Nendir to grow up. There were much more pleasant and important things to focus on. "I believe the House Wizard gets to go first, as nobles do," Sabal said with amusement, grinning when she saw the frown begin to form.

"Sabal, bath," Aly ordered as sternly as she could manage. The effect was ruined by the way her lips twitched upwards at the corners.

"Of course," Sabal said almost impishly, leaning in to kiss Aly's cheek. The mage turned her head slightly and their lips met instead. That feeling of connection that Sabal had been missing so badly returned in that instant. She pulled Aly flush against her body and turned one kiss into another, then another, then another.

When they broke apart, Aly smiled widely and rested her forehead against Sabal's. "You take such good care of me, _d'anthe_. Let me take care of you," she murmured, silver eyes bright. She could already see some of the frustration slowly fading from Sabal's form. The shoulders that had been defiantly squared were relaxing ever so slightly. Aly ran her hand down Sabal's neck and across her shoulder. She could feel the wilder's tension living in knotted muscles and immediately started to rub gentle circles over the tightly-strung flesh. "That has to hurt."

"Mmm, I can think of a few things to make it better," Sabal said with a smile, running her hands over Alystin's hips. "We have some time, don't we?"

There was the distinct sound of breaking furniture from downstairs and Aly cursed. "Sabal—" she started apologetically.

"They can live with their own consequences. I refuse to hold their hands through everything," Sabal said, brushing a few locks of white hair away from Aly's now-worried eyes. She missed this too much to drop everything to go help her companions. Selfish? Perhaps, but Sabal had no problem with that appellation. "Aly, if you or I go intervene, it could make things a lot worse. Particularly if I do it."

"What if something goes wrong?" the wizard said, though she was swiftly warming to the idea of letting the boys handle it on their own. They had been training for a reason.

"Storunn's there. He can handle it," Sabal said with gentle insistence as she slipped arms around her mage. "Please, _ussta ssin_."

Alystin worried her lower lip between her teeth for a moment before relaxing into the touch. The chaotic sound had died away almost as quickly as it had arisen, which did wonders to calm her nerves. Besides, the idea of an unclothed Sabal to touch as much as she wanted was far, far more inviting than the idea of sorting out whatever was going on downstairs. She was perfectly fine shirking whatever responsibility she might have had for an hour or two.

The inquisitor smiled, resting her cheek against Aly's temple, and then closed her eyes for a moment just to savor the warmth that the contact conjured up in the center of her chest.

Slowly, Alystin's matching little smile of contentment turned into a grin. "My turn," the mage murmured before touching her lips to Sabal's again while she deftly started to work her lover out of her clothes. The wilder was quick to agree wordlessly, her body humming to life as visions of Alystin's unhidden thoughts flashed behind her eyes. She had yet to see something she disapproved of.

"I missed this," the inquisitor admitted readily. Sabal closed her amber eyes with a happy sigh when the last of her clothing was on the ground and Aly's hands ran over her body with light, teasing brushes. At least, she closed her eyes for long enough that she could lull the mage into a false sense of security, before scooping up the unsuspecting, fully-dressed wizard and advancing on the bath. She grinned with definite victory when she saw Aly's eyes go wide.

"Sabal!" Aly shrieked even as she couldn't stop laughing, trying to cling tightly enough to her lover to avoid getting covered in water.

The splash could be heard out in the hallway.

Downstairs, Camran wove small patterns in the air with his fingers above Nendir's broken hand. Vanya's would-be 'romancer' was on the other side of the inn's common room with a broken nose and bruised jaw, being nursed by his own companions. "Ah, just slap some cold meat on it," Storunn advised the healer.

"I think it worked. No one's coming over," Linnan said, pleased. A fight resolved quickly was a fight that wouldn't make its way to Aly or Sabal, at least ideally. Neither woman was likely to be happy if things got so out of hand that they were obliged to do something.

"I'm sorry," Vanya whispered. The elf maiden looked stricken. "I wasn't...I didn't...Maybe I should go upstairs."

Nendir felt a flood of heat through his hand and then the bone snapped back into place. The ranger relaxed as the pain ebbed away. He reached out with his other hand and caught Vanya by the arm before she could stand up. "I would much rather fight a pitched battle down here than have you doing something that might irritate Sabal." The elf gave her a small smile. "Why don't you go out walking with Camran? Linnan and I can keep eyes on you from a distance just in case, but I doubt you need the four of us as protection now. Westerwood is a peaceful village. Only the tavern is rowdy."

Vanya nodded and appeared a little bit reassured. She seemed to trust the priest the most out of anyone she'd met in the group, maybe because he was the gentlest and the first one she'd been introduced too. Even so, she was plenty skittish.

Camran stood up and offered Vanya his arm. Together, they set off into the city streets. "I am sorry we didn't reach you and your caravan sooner," he said once they were well away from the inn. The village streets were snowy, but quiet now that the sun had set. There was a chill, but both of them were dressed warmly enough that the cold air wasn't a bother. It was refreshing after the furnace-like heat of the roaring hearths.

"It's not your fault. It's no one's fault, except for the bandits," Vanya said softly, her eyes downcast. "I shouldn't have gone anyway. My mother was right...I'm not meant to wander the world. I just thought I would be safe enough with a caravan."

"So you aren't a trader?" Camran said.

"I wanted to be. My father was, before he died," the elf maiden explained, holding his arm a little tighter as they moved through a slippery spot. "But I spent too much time learning how to act like a lady and not enough learning to defend myself. If you and your friends hadn't come along..." She shivered and tried to redirect her thoughts.

The priest covered the hand on his arm with his own. "We did come," he said as reassuringly as he could. "Even Sabal wouldn't have let harm come to you." He wasn't absolutely certain that was true, but he wanted to believe it. Simply walking away seemed too cold even for their hard-hearted drow.

"I don't think she likes me," Vanya said. "I know she didn't want you to see me to Silverymoon."

"Sabal is a bit...prickly," Camran said. "Most of the time I don't think she likes any of us except Aly, though she's started to get along with our stalwart dwarf better. She has her good moments, though. And she came around eventually."

"So you will help me home?" Vanya said, looking relieved. "I'm very glad to hear that. I feel safe with you."

Camran felt a warmth at that. "Of course you are. I won't let any harm come to you," he assured the pretty elven maiden. "Nor will the rest of the group. We're here to do the right thing."

Vanya smiled at him. "That's very good of you. I promise I'll help as much as I can. I don't want to be dead weight." She paused for a moment, then continued curiously, "What business brings you to Silverymoon? Maybe I can help."

The priest was about to answer that question in honest detail, but he was halted by a nagging feeling that maybe Sabal would be unhappy enough to take it out of his hide if he did so. Over and over she had said that the fewer people who knew their reason for traveling, the better. Then again, she had told Laug and the duergar knew...so he wasn't certain what to think. "We're going to talk to Lord Holt," he explained. She probably didn't need to know that he was a diabolist. It might upset her and she'd gone through enough, he reasoned.

"Well, you'd best warn Aly, then," Vanya said, her lips pursing together. "Any pretty woman that walks his way gets at least a stare. I mean, he's a good man, but sometimes the way he looks at me gets under my skin. But his foster son is sweet."

"Foster son?" Camran filed away the comment on Jaeger Holt for future reference. Perhaps it would be information that would come in handy later.

"Elénaril Nelaeryn," Vanya said, smiling a little. "Very dashing. A proper hero, like you. He fought against the orcs for a while up here in the north and helped beat them back."

Camran was blissfully ignorant of the fact that Sabal and Aly were interested in the man in question. Neither had seen fit to inform him, considering the order to find Elénaril had come from a demon lord. It would have been difficult to explain, even with lying. So instead of asking more questions, the priest turned a little bit red. "I'm no hero, I promise you that," Camran said. "I haven't actually been adventuring very long. I'm still learning a lot. Storunn, Aly, and Sabal are the seasoned ones."

"You saved me," Vanya said softly. "That's heroic enough for me."

* * *

"We should probably get up," Alystin murmured even though she didn't want to leave the warm circle of Sabal's arms. The press of the wilder's naked body against her back was one of the best feelings in the world. She shivered a little bit when lips ghosted across the hollow behind the point of her jaw, just below her ear. Sabal was clearly in an amorous mood still, even though they were both tired after the long day and much more pleasant exertion. The hand on Aly's stomach was still rubbing soft, slow circles. "The faerie could come upstairs any minute now. It's getting late, after all."

"I hate it when you're the voice of reason," Sabal mumbled almost indistinctly against her lover's white hair. The wilder was feeling much, much better. For one, Aly had worked out most of the knots in her neck and back with those wonderful hands. More than that, she had the opportunity to be close to her lover. "Five more minutes?"

"Mhmm," Alystin hummed contently in agreement. They could afford that long. She closed her eyes even though she had been enjoying the dimness of candle-light, just a few flickering flames creating dancing shadows that played across the room.

A knock on the door shot down that idea quickly. Both of them cursed and disentangled themselves immediately. "One minute!" Sabal barked as she sat up and grabbed for her clothes. It wasn't the first time she'd had to get dressed in a few moments. She tugged her shirt on, murmuring in Drow irritably.

Aly murmured a command word to reactivate her disguise. Her human appearance securely back on, she pulled on her own clothes quickly and headed towards the door. She opened it a crack as Sabal finished pulling on her own pants. "Linnan, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, exactly. Just wanted to talk to you and Sabal," the halfling said. "Nendir and Storunn are abed. Camran and Vanya are still chatting downstairs, but yeah, wanted to talk."

The wizard glanced over at her lover, who nodded. "Come in," Alystin said, opening the door all the way to permit the halfling entrance. There wasn't really any sign of their rendezvous except for the water splashed all over the floor by the tub and her clothes drying over the back of the chair in one corner. Linnan didn't appear to even notice.

"It's about Vanya," the halfling said. "I listened to her and Camran talking for a while, just kind of at a distance. She's been asking an awful lot of questions about us and being a wee bit vague about her own story. Thought you might want to know, Sabal. It just gave me a weird feeling in my stomach."

Amber eyes narrowed at that, even though she silently approved of the halfling's judgment. As a thief, he was inclined to be a careful sort where Nendir, Camran, and Storunn were not. "What did you think?" the scarred drowess asked, sitting down on her bedroll. She motioned for Linnan to make himself comfortable.

"Sometimes coppers do that," the halfling said, brushing his shaggy hair out of his green eyes for a moment. He seemed to relax a little when he saw her treating him seriously. "When they think you're a thief, y'know. Maybe she works for Silverymoon, thinks we're bandits. That's what I thought."

"She lied to us about why she's on the road," Alystin said thoughtfully. She frowned. "I can't imagine us looking like bandits. It seems she has a secret of her own."

"Tonight or tomorrow, we should confront her," the wilder said. She didn't really care what Nendir and Camran would think, not if this woman put them all at risk. If Vanya had to die, she wouldn't be shedding any tears. "I want to know the truth before this goes any further."

"In the morning," Alystin said. "I'd prefer everyone awake, just in case things go wrong or we're ambushed. If she's working for Holt, she might have devils at her command."

Linnan frowned at the thought. He knew Camran and Nendir wouldn't like it, but he was definitely on Aly and Sabal's side if this girl was working for a diabolist. He didn't want to believe it...but his thief's intuition was telling him to be wary and that was certainly cause for Vanya to be so interested in the group. "Should I say anything?" he asked.

Sabal shook her head. "They'll find out in the morning. That's soon enough. Have a good night, Linnan. Oh, and thanks. It is good to know that someone besides the two of us is paying attention."

The halfling was surprised. It was the first time Sabal had ever said anything like that to him. He nodded his head to them. "No problem," their thief said before slipping back out. "Hello, Vanya." The halfling made certain he said it loudly enough that Sabal and Alystin would hear, giving the drowess enough time to pull on her hood and shrouding.

"Goodnight, Linnan," the elf maiden said softly before stepping in. She saw Sabal's hooded form lying in bed already and Alystin about to snuff out the candles that dimly lit the room. "Sorry I'm so late." Vanya hurried over to the bed and set up her own bedroll. She was quick to crawl under the covers even though she had no intention of sleeping immediately. She had her own plans for finding out what the hooded woman and the mage were hiding.

"Don't worry about it," Aly said. She blew out the candles, casting the room in darkness broken only by the sliver of crescent moon shining weakly in through the window. Then she returned to her bed next to Sabal and settled in for the night, slipping into reverie rather than sleep so it was easier to awake. She knew her lover had done the same, just in case Vanya decided to try something. The girl was quiet, but she wasn't as stealthy as the average drow assassin.

Vanya waited for the sound of breathing to slow and even out, lying there awake for probably a full hour until she was confident that two were asleep. She rose as silently as she could and went over to the piled gear. It was Alystin's spellbook that she picked up first, hunting through for loose papers or notes in the margin. What she found instead were just what she assumed was a wizard's spells outlined in detail, all recorded in the mage's slightly sloping handwriting. The elf couldn't read them to be sure that was all the pages were, considering it was written in a language she didn't recognize. There were loose papers tucked into the pages, but all of them were painstaking drawings of surface and Underdark plants with notes alongside them. Some were healing plants that she recognized, others were antidotes, and a few were poisonous. They were a healer's study of the world's flora. That was unusual for a wizard, but she supposed it wasn't beyond the bounds of possibility.

Sabal's gear yielded exactly no clues. Most of what she owned was perfectly functional and as simple as possible. There was no indication of her religion, status, or homeland other than her armor with its expensive materials and interlocking web patterns. It was a little bit frustrating for Vanya, telling the story of a professional rather than a person. She picked up a dagger that had been left with the armor. It was a weird looking thing, blade scarred as if pieced together from a shattered one, with edges that didn't quite line up and a fuller that wandered from side to side as it ran down the blade. The only thing that didn't seem rough about it was the silver spider on the pommel, rendered in loving detail. It was sturdy enough and not likely inclined to break, at least on first inspection, but it wasn't a pretty weapon. This thing had some significance, she was certain of that. It was the only thing remotely personal that Sabal seemed to own other than that red sash. Vanya placed it back with everything else.

The final piece of her currently somewhat frustrated curiosity was fixed on Sabal herself. She padded over to where the hooded woman was sleeping. She wanted a glimpse of the warrior's face. Somehow, she doubted she was really burned as badly as Alystin had suggested. Camran had danced awkwardly around the questions about Sabal, but he wasn't very good at evasion. Not like the wizard, who had sidestepped virtually any question so subtly that Vanya had barely realized she was being redirected. The elf reached out slowly, prepared to pull the hood away.

A hand shot up and seized her delicate hand with a tight grip. Sabal sat up, her face lost in shadow to the point where Vanya couldn't even make out eyes. It gave her a particularly sinister appearance. "My people have a saying, elf: the foolish and unwary find surprises, and among them, waiting death," Sabal whispered, applying painful pressure to the knuckles of the hand she was holding. Others might have gone for the wrist, but that was a poor way to inflict discomfort. "I have been waiting patiently for this opportunity. Let me savor it for a moment."

Vanya swallowed hard and felt tears forming. "I didn't—"

"If you think I will be swayed by fake weeping, you are sorely mistaken," Sabal said in that same soft tone. Apparently the confrontation would be happening now. She knew without having to look that Aly had a spell readied and was watching through half-open eyes. The wizard had spent a great deal of time perfecting the art of casting without sound or overt movement. "Who sent you?"

"I don't understand," Vanya said. She almost yelped when the grip on her hand tightened even more. The hooded woman was apparently a lot stronger than she looked. "You're hurting me!"

"This is your last chance to give me an answer before I simply take the information from you. Who sent you?" Sabal said flatly. The lack of shouting was more unnerving to Vanya than any amount of hollering would have been. She expected anger. This was something cooler and much more deliberate.

Vanya glanced over at Aly just in time to realize that the wizard was not only awake, but had a spell prepared. She was outnumbered and the game was definitely up. "Lady Alustriel," she said. "We knew there were dangerous people doing something in the Spine, working out of the caves. Our best guess was orcs, but your group is certainly dangerous."

"Sabal?" Alystin said softly, sitting up.

"That is not a lie," the wilder said after a moment of silence. Vanya felt a chill run through her body at the certainty in that tone. How did she know? "So you pretended to be a trader, hoping that something would fall into your lap."

"But I am not trained for combat," Vanya admitted reluctantly, more than a little bit ashamed by being caught. "The bandits were not part of the plan."

Aly's lip curled. "A poor spy," she said. "What were you thinking would happen when you found the orcs? Tea?"

"I had fighters with me," Vanya said hotly.

"Poor fighters too," Sabal murmured with something approaching amusement. If this was the surface's idea of a spying operation, it was no wonder that the drow could catch them off guard with surface raids. Then again, Vanya seemed young and inexperienced for a good spy. "Dispatched by a bandit ambush. Your mistress's taste in agents leaves much to be desired. Still, you are enough to have been dangerous for Laug. I doubt the orcs would be left in peace unless he and his retreated deep into the mountains, had you found the band."

"You saw the orcs?" Vanya said uncomfortably. The fact that Sabal knew one by name did nothing to reassure her. It wasn't likely that the group was working for orcs, but they could be similarly inclined towards evil.

"Yes," Sabal said. "You might be interested to hear that they were worshippers of Tempus, not Gruumsh. However, that's beside the point. We need to decide what to do with you." There was something in her tone that promised unpleasantness in the near future.

"Sabal, don't kill her," Alystin said. She felt some sympathy for the girl despite the spying. Her natural inclination was still to plunge a dagger into Vanya's chest, more for spying than her race, but there was a more important factor: how it would appear. "We don't need more enemies. The villagers have seen her with us. If she disappears, someone will make note of it and they'll tell whoever this Lady Alustriel sends."

The inquisitor was quiet for a long moment, weighing this carefully against her desire to kill the faerie. It was bad enough that she was being so tolerant of Nendir, but there she had little choice. The ranger knew the area and how to survive on the surface. She had no such experience of her own. "Very well," she said, releasing Vanya's hand.

"I have no quarrel with you," Vanya said carefully. "Camran said you were going to see Lord Holt, which doesn't sound terribly sinister."

Sabal cursed silently for a moment. "Idiot," she snapped aloud after calming herself down somewhat. It wasn't worth it to go wake him up by slapping him. Barely.

Alystin couldn't help a laugh.

"What, was he not supposed to say so?" Vanya said, a little bit relieved that Sabal's ire had settled on a new target.

"Apparently he has no understanding of the danger around every corner," Sabal muttered. She was frustrated with the priest. Maybe it would have been better to just let Vanya stab him in the back. It might have been a valuable learning experience. Something of that nature would have happened to him even by his current age, had he been a drow. "Perhaps he is under the impression that all evil is apparent and ugly under the sun."

"What evil?" the elven maiden asked, concerned. "If you know of something shadowy stalking the land, Lady Alustriel would want to know."

Sabal looked over at Aly. _It's your decision, d'anthe_ , she whispered in the mage's thoughts. _But perhaps it would be better to leave Holt out of this if she knows him_.

Alystin nodded. "We are hunting devils," she said. "Camran had a vision of his goddess beset by them. The orcs have run afoul of them too."

"Devils fighting the orcs?" Vanya said. She looked perplexed, brow furrowing as she considered this. "That is...not what I might have expected to hear."

"Not all of the forces you deem to be evil necessarily cooperate or even tolerate each other," Sabal pointed out. "Besides, Laug and his people are not evil. They are simply not what your people want for neighbors."

"Orcs have done plenty," Vanya said stiffly.

"All orcs?" Alystin countered with a raised eyebrow. But then she sighed and shook her head. "It doesn't matter. We will take you to Silverymoon, but that is the end of your travel with us. You have proven that you cannot be trusted, Vanya."

The elf was quiet. She heard a definite finality to that judgment. It would take a great deal of work to reverse that decision and she doubted she had the time to change anyone's mind. "Are you going to tell Camran and Nendir?" she asked in a subdued voice.

"No. You will tell them the truth in the morning. If nothing else, it should teach them something," Sabal said before lying down again. "Now actually go to bed."

Vanya returned to her bedroll and laid down. It didn't seem fair, but she knew she had gotten herself into this position. It would be awkward, but she didn't see Sabal letting her wriggle out of it. It was a shame, because she actually liked Camran and Nendir, particularly the priest. She fell asleep quickly despite her discomfort. It would be something to deal with in the morning.

Morning came faster than any of the three liked even though the sun was quite late to rise this far in the north. Sabal and Aly woke up in the darkness, untroubled by the lack of daystar. It was the inquisitor who less than gently nudged Vanya awake with a boot. "Up," the amber-eyed drowess ordered. "We're leaving in half an hour."

"It's still the middle of the night," Vanya protested, glancing at the window that showed dark skies. There were some windows lit up, but not many.

"Up," Sabal repeated irritably before throwing the last of her gear in her bag. She already had her armor on and her bedroll was packed away as well. "If you aren't ready, we will leave without you."

Vanya groaned, but obediently rolled out of bed. She took the time for a quick bath after Sabal left with her gear to join Aly downstairs, even though it was a little bit chilly in the room. She dressed as swiftly as she could before hurrying after them. She sighed a little when she saw the rest of the group gathered together. She would have to tell all of them the truth and she hated the idea of that. However, judging from the look Aly was giving her, their conversation during the night hadn't been forgotten.

"Let's go," Sabal said impatiently, shouldering her bag and starting out the door.

Vanya took a deep breath as she followed, falling in step with the priest and the ranger. "Camran, Nendir, I have something to tell you..."


	6. Battle at the Ruins

The trip to Silverymoon seemed longer to Sabal than the route from Menzoberranzan to the surface, even though it was only a little less than a week. They bypassed Mithral Hall at the inquisitor's request with a surprising lack of grumbling from Storunn, Nendir, or Camran. Vanya was very, very quiet as they moved. Her fear of falling into Sabal's sights again kept her well-behaved even though Nendir and Camran had been quick to forgive her. It was a lesson learned for them all the same. Sabal had the courtesy not to say aloud, ' _I warned you_ ', but it was clear that she was thinking it. Vanya was a little bit intimidated by the training that Sabal and Storunn were putting their ranger and priest through. Even Linnan spent time practicing with Sabal, though she was much more patient with the halfling. Most of the time, anyway.

"We'll be to the city in an hour," Nendir said, studying Sabal as best he could when she was hooded and shrouded. She was being extremely cautious around Vanya, which he supposed he could understand. Drow seemed to be suspicious creatures even on their best of days. "Are you certain you don't just want to push through into the night?"

"Alystin is exhausted," Sabal said after glancing over at the wizard. Aly had slept little the night before and the cold march had done nothing for her comfort. The inquisitor knew very well that nerves were to blame. It frustrated her that she hadn't been able to do anything about it. "We can afford to make camp. I'd rather be rested walking into a strange city."

"Fair enough," Nendir said, deferring to her judgment.

It took him a remarkably short period of time to find a dry campsite and get a fire going. Sabal was grateful despite her frequent barbs towards the elf. She nodded to him a little and watched Aly settle in so close to the fire that she seemed in peril of catching flame. "I'm fine," the mage said when she realized she was being watched, offering her lover a small smile. "Just a little tired." There were shadows under her silver eyes that spoke of an exhaustion that seeped into the bones.

"Of course," Sabal said, knowing that there was no point in pursuing the matter aggressively. It would be better just to let Aly sleep. It was only a few minutes before the mage crawled into her bedroll. She was unconscious practically as soon as her head hit her pillow. Vanya did the same, well aware that the hooded woman didn't trust her enough to allow her a watch. Storunn, Sabal, Linnan, and Nendir would be plenty anyway.

It wasn't until a few hours had gone by that Nendir really started to pay attention to the drowess. He and Sabal both required less sleep than the others with their elven blood. Currently, the wilder was kneeling in the shadows and seemed to be praying. Not for the first time, he wondered what faith drove her. Was she a follower of Eilistraee? A worshipper of Lloth? The second thought chilled him to his bone. He didn't want to believe that Sabal was capable of such evil, even though he could easily see her being cruel. She had been to the duergar guard, after all. He had hunted for redeeming qualities in his companion, and sometimes they shone through. She seemed loyal, or at least devoted to Alystin. She was certainly brave enough, if their battles were any indication. He was beginning to suspect she even cared what happened to the rest of the group. Maybe she drove them so hard for a reason. She had mentioned something once when he was complaining about how sore he was: better a beating than a burial. It was virtues like compassion and mercy that he had difficulty seeing in her.

Sabal's idea of mercy was killing someone outright, it seemed. They'd encountered more bandits as they left the Spine, only to have her dispatch the wild men with ruthless efficiency and a certain relish. He would have readily sworn that she enjoyed her bloody work or at the very least found satisfaction in it. He wasn't certain what that said about her.

Alystin, he liked. The mage could be standoffish, but for the most part she seemed genuinely caring and attentive. It made her a good healer. She was wise too, beyond her years. He trusted that she would have his back if things got rough. Even their drow seemed to want him alive and relatively unharmed, though she was inclined to bitch and growl about having to step in. He had actually started to get along with her better than Camran was as soon as he began paying close attention to her lessons. There was merit to them, though the way she saw the world was warped and twisted to him when compared to the teachings he had grown up with. Honor and fair play did not enter into the drow's strategies in battle. Winning as quickly as possible was the most important thing, whether that meant maiming or terrifying or killing. There were hints of that mentality in the wizard as well, though more subdued. It was likely part of the Underdark's effects on the mage.

"It could be difficult when we reach Silverymoon," Nendir said quietly when he saw that she was finished praying. "It took Lady Silverhand time to allow even Drizzt Do'Urden in. And you are not as...amicable...as he was."

"I do not intend to spend much time in the city," Sabal said indifferently. He wasn't wrong, but she wasn't as weak as Do'Urden either. Yes, she had a rather large chink in her armor, but she still remained in Lloth's good graces for a reason. "We need only investigate Lord Holt, who I suspect will go to Waterdeep. If that's where Durna's man is, that is where he buys his spell components." She paused suddenly, her whole body going stiff. "We are not alone."

Nendir nodded. He'd heard the faint rustle of movement through the frozen grass as well. He kicked Storunn's arm as subtly as he could to let the dwarf know something was awry. Immediately, the dwarven fighter's eyes snapped open. He didn't even make a sound, reaching for his axe. Their voices suddenly hushing was enough to wake up their thief as well. Linnan was a light sleeper. "We should investigate," the elf said in a low voice.

 _Storunn, Linnan, stay here with Aly, Camran, and the faerie_ , Sabal murmured in their thoughts. It was unsettling to all of them, so she did it rarely, but now was a time for silence. She signalled to Nendir and moved with the ranger into the woods as quietly as possible. The long grass brushed against her legs, but barely made a sound. Nendir was even quieter as he moved, bow drawn halfway with an arrow on the string. He was ready to fire at any moment.

Sabal sensed the attack coming before her eyes registered the movement and threw up her blade just in time to parry the blow. She barreled forward, slamming her shoulder into the center of her attacker's chest so hard it left him staggering backwards. A deft trip sent him sprawling to the ground. Nendir drew his bow back, then paused. "Logan, stop!" he called, recognizing the human man.

The attacker stopped in his tracks, but Sabal was on him in a heartbeat, one foot on his chest while her blade pressed against his trachea. She stopped only when she heard Nendir call her name, though the temptation to end him swiftly was overwhelming. He was not alone, however. Others melted out of the trees, elves and humans alike. There were probably ten around, more than Sabal wanted to tangle with. "Minaithelan?" the man said, confused. The other nine seemed to relax almost imperceptibly.

Sabal snarled behind the shrouding that covered the lower half of her face. This was just what she needed, being at the mercy of faeries and humans. These did not seem nearly as friendly as Camran or Nendir. The elven ranger looked over at Sabal. "These are Knights in Silver. You should let him up," her companion encouraged.

"And then what will prevent them from turning me into a pincushion?" Sabal demanded harshly, staring down at the man currently at her mercy with narrowed eyes. She knew she could take out at least three of them if she had to. With the whole group together, they could probably render all ten at least unable to fight, but it would be a definite battle. She was acutely aware of the arrows currently leveled at her.

"Sabal, I won't let them harm you," Nendir said in what he thought was an appropriately soothing tone. Her head turned towards him and he knew that she was glaring.

"I imagine that's not really under your control," she snapped. His offer of protection did little to reassure her in the face of ten armed foes. It was also just a little bit insulting, as if she was going to hide behind him or cling to his leg like a child.

"We thought you to be fiends," Logan asked from the ground, staring upwards with wide eyes. He could just barely make out feral, unfriendly eyes in the darkness of her hood.

"Let him up, Sabal," Nendir said. "You are not endearing yourself to them."

The elf heard her mutter something that was probably a curse about him in her native tongue, but she removed her foot from the man's chest. Her blade remained drawn and leveled at him as he picked himself up. "Do you greet all guests so kindly?" she asked, body tense with mistrust.

"We tracked half a score of devils this way, accompanied by a handful of people hooded like yourself," Logan said, brushing the snow off of his body. He looked warily at the woman still pointing her blade at him. He had little interest in being stabbed. "I was a bit hasty, yes, but understandably so."

Sabal glared under her hood and made a sound of furious disbelief.

Nendir barely stopped himself from chuckling. It was probably all the blows to the head talking, but he'd begun to find Sabal's perpetual impatience with him somewhat entertaining. She seemed no more patient with her assailant. "Logan, you have my promise that Sabal is no fiend. She is an ally."

"Oi, leave 'em be," a familiar gruff voice said from behind the assembled ten. There was Storunn standing out in the open, which likely meant Linnan and hopefully Camran had been left to watch the camp. The dwarf gripped his axe tightly when some of them turned around to face him, ready to go. "Ain't fair ganging up on the two of 'em."

"A companion of yours, I presume," Logan said as he looked that way, raising a thick eyebrow. He was a particularly hairy creature around his face, his beard thick and wiry compared to Camran's. Sabal stared into his deep-set eyes, unimpressed. He was clearly a fighter by his muscular build, but she had well over a century of expertise on him. "Minaithelan, we can discuss this. Tell your friends to sheathe their weapons."

Sabal let out a sharp hiss of angry breath, but she glanced over at Nendir. The elf had lowered his bow and let his arm fall slack. "These are good and honorable people, Sabal," he said patiently. "If Logan gives me his word that you will come to no harm, you can rest assured that he will hold to that promise."

"I will not harm anyone other than the cultists that associate themselves with devils," Logan promised. "And I trust that Minaithelan would not travel with anyone who held such loyalties."

Sabal's eyes didn't flicker away from his for even a moment but she did sheathe her sword. Her hand lingered near the hilt cautiously and her body didn't relax, however. "If you are wrong, Nendir, I will take it out of your hide."

"I'd expect nothing less," Nendir said. "We should go back to the others. I have no doubt that we should talk if Logan is following fiends. Perhaps we could help."

Sabal paused and considered this. "You say there were hooded figures with the devils?" she queried thoughtfully. If she could get her hands on a cultist, there was likely a wealth of information to be obtained from him. That much was worth even a temporary alliance with blood enemies—better than walking in blind by far, certainly. She didn't want to put Aly at risk by having nothing in the way of information. That did not, however, mean she was going to forgive Logan for the unprovoked attack at any point in the near future. She intended to watch him like a hawk.

"Yes," Logan said, walking with Nendir and the hooded drowess towards the fire. Storunn followed along behind, his heavy boots crushing the snow down. The rest of the Knights in Silver present followed, though they looked somewhat wary themselves. "What brings you to Silverymoon, Minaithelan?"

"Hunting devils," Nendir said with a little chuckle. He knew better than to make any mention of Lord Holt. Sabal wasn't pleased with the disclosure, but she understood Nendir's rationale. Anything that would make them less of a target to these newcomers was probably best shared...within reason. "My companions and I have traveled for a very long way on the trail of such creatures. It would seem they are more of a problem than we realized if they are so close to Silverymoon. Have they been terrorizing the locals?"

"No," Logan said gravely as they walked into camp. "But they have been wiping out patrols and occasionally probing our defenses.

Linnan was there, sharply alert, and a groggy Camran sat near the fire with his staff across his lap. Vanya had perked up at the sound of their approach, but Alystin was still sound asleep. Sabal was inclined to keep it that way even though she knew all these people tromping about would invariably wake the wizard. Sure enough, Aly stirred. "What...?" she mumbled, lifting her head. It only took a half second for her to register what she was looking at. The mage sat bolt upright, her silver eyes wide. "Who are they?"

"Reinforcements," Nendir said with a small smile. "They're not going to hurt anyone, Aly, I promise."

"Though not for lack of trying," Sabal commented dryly as she gave Logan as hard look. Even without being able to see her face, Logan fidgeted a little bit uncomfortably.

Alystin relaxed ever so slightly, though she was still very much alert. Linnan, Vanya, and Camran definitely looked reassured once they saw the markings on the armor of their new guests.

"Logan!" Vanya cried with delight, springing up. She dashed the short distance across the camp and threw her arms around the ranger's neck in a lover's embrace that the human immediately returned.

Sabal saw the relief on Camran's face flicker and sighed. _Of course he's smitten. Goddess help us_ , she thought not quite sourly. She felt a sort of pang of sympathy. If Alystin had greeted someone else that way, she would have been jealous in a way she doubted that their gentle priest had the capacity to feel. Not that what he thought he had with Vanya was even near what she had with the mage. It took the fires of a crucible to burn away the waste. Sabal had certainly walked into an inferno or two after Aly and vice versa. "Charming," she muttered, sitting down beside Aly. The wizard gave her a curious look and Sabal shook her head in the universal signal for ' _Later_ '.

"How did you come to be with these people, Vanya?" Logan said with a look of utmost relief. "We'd had no word for such a long time..."

"They saved me in the Spine," Vanya said softly. "They're good people, Logan."

"Saved you from what, exactly?" Logan said with a frown.

"Bandits. But does it matter? I'm safe," she reminded him.

Logan cleared his throat and studied the group. "I owe you my thanks for delivering my betrothed safely to Silverymoon...and an apology. You should have been greeted as the guests that you are. I am Logan Halloran," he said politely. He smiled at the halfling. "Good to see you, Linnan."

"I had no idea you were getting married, Logan. Congratulations," Nendir said. He was happy for his old friend, though he did feel bad for Camran. Still, the priest would recover. A cleric of Sune should have been the most likely of any in their group to find love. _Certainly more likely than Sabal_ , he thought. "Have a seat."

Logan smiled almost bashfully at that and sat down with Vanya pressed up against his side. She seemed reluctant to detach now that she'd found him again. "Who are you all?" The ranger asked. "Minaithelan and Linnan I know."

Aly cleared her throat. "This is Camran Daley. Our dwarven friend is Storunn Ironarm. My name is Alystin Kenafin—" she said, preparing to finish her sentence when Nendir interjected helpfully.

"And the woman you almost laid open is Sabal A'Daragon," their elven ranger said.

The wizard raised her eyebrow. It did explain why her lover looked so tense. Being attacked did not generally make for a good first impression with anyone, let alone someone as suspicious as a drow. "Hopefully we're all cordial now," she said to smooth over the awkwardness between the leader of this group of knights and Sabal.

Logan nodded. "Of course," he said. "I mistakenly believed your friend to be one of the summoners we are hunting, those who associate with summoned fiends. We have been tracking a group of devils and their masters for some time now, though this is the first we've caught their trail. They seem to be headed to the ruins to the north. An old fortress left largely in ruins. There is a small outpost there and, while I hope that they can, they are likely not equipped to repel the creatures."

"Interesting," Aly said thoughtfully. She was still fatigued, but she was better by far than she had been earlier. It was one of the benefits of needing less sleep than a true human. "How far is it?"

"Two hours more north," Logan said.

"We should hurry there," Nendir said urgently. "If there are people who need our help, we should aid them. Besides, we may lose them if we don't act quickly."

The second point was much more salient to Sabal than the first. These were soldiers, and more than that, they were not her soldiers to mind...but Nendir had a point. If the trail was allowed to grow cold, it was more than possible that the devils would be returned to the Nine Hells and the cultists would vanish into the local population. However, this could easily be an ambush designed to claim the lives of another patrol. After all, Logan had mentioned that others were lost. She wasn't eager to walk into a trap, even one meant for someone else. She realized that Nendir was looking at her, no doubt waiting for her to weigh in on his plan. "Cautiously," Sabal said firmly. "Rushing headlong into this would be foolish. Nendir, Linnan, and I will scout in advance of the group. If I were these devils, I would expect to be followed and I certainly wouldn't move without leaving a surprise for my pursuit."

"Eidhin and Landion will see you back to Silverymoon, Vanya," Logan said firmly, unmistakably an order. "I want you in no more danger."

Sabal and Alystin both blinked at that, half-expecting Vanya to slap him. Instead, the elf nodded in acknowledgement. "I'll get my things together while you move out," she said, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Good luck, love. Come home safe."

"There is something _wrong_ with faeries," Sabal muttered in Drow to her lover, still somewhat stunned. No drowess she knew would have ever put up with a tone like that from a male. Then again, Vanya hadn't struck her as even remotely similar to a drow woman. Apparently on the surface, their females were made of softer stuff. It was hardly any wonder that surface raids were so often successful. How was their civilization even still standing?

Alystin hid her grin behind her hand. "Don't you wish you could get away with using that tone on me?" the wizard said back sweetly, maintaining their native tongue.

"Not at the moment, though I'm certain you'll prompt me to reconsider in the near future," Sabal said mildly. She stood up and switched back to her accented Common. "Shall we go? I believe we have devils to hunt."

"Come, then," Logan said. He offered the hooded woman a smile. "I am glad of the assistance."

Sabal considered him for a long moment, then stalked off towards the north without another word. Her sense of direction on the surface had been steadily improving with Nendir's help, particularly his instructions on navigating by stars. She was far more inclined to move at night whenever possible.

"She means ye're welcome," Storunn said, hopping up to his feet with more ease than should have been possible for a dwarf in chainmail. He'd spent his whole life in armor, so he barely felt it anymore unless he was trying to swim. Then it was a definite problem. He preferred the school of thought that suggested walking along the bottom of bodies of water to escape. Granted, it wasn't a very successful strategy, and so he stayed away from ponds and rivers. The ocean was an absolute no. "Linnan, Nendir, ye'd best catch up with the lass."

The halfling scurried off as fast as he could through the snow, catching up with the drowess after a minute. "Trap?" he said as Nendir trailed behind them.

"It would make the most sense," Sabal confirmed with a nod. "If there is an outpost, I imagine it will make fine bait. Wound and leave, waiting for your true prey to rush blindly to the aid of the dying. I have seen it done before many times."

Nendir felt a little sick to his stomach, knowing that Logan would be all too ready to rush in if he thought people were dying and he could save them. "We may need to draw the fiends away," he said. "I doubt we can counsel patience to Logan. He's a bit...impulsive."

"Aly will do her best," Sabal said. She trusted the wizard's instincts as much as her own. They had been on so many patrols together that both of them were familiar with many of the strategies employed in the Underdark, and an ambush like this would certainly fall into that realm. Sabal had even used the trick before on followers of Eilistraee, luring them to their deaths by twisting their concern for others back on them. It was not one of her proudest memories. "It's not a bad plan. Draw the fiends away and make them expose their own trap. Dangerous, however."

Nendir actually felt a little glow of pride. It was the first time Sabal had ever given him praise other than commenting that he seemed slightly less hopeless. He wasn't certain when her approval had started to matter to him, but it did. If he could impress her, his old tutors would be comparatively easy to please. "If we attack and then relocate, we could force them to chase us."

Linnan grinned. "Hit and run. I like it. Run the buggers in circles until they're too tired to hurt the others."

"Calm down," Sabal said sternly. "This is your first encounter with devils. I will promise you that the victory will not be as easy as you think. Now let's go see what we're up against."

* * *

Alystin frowned as they stepped out into the clearing that surrounded the ruins on all sides. She didn't like the open field utterly devoid of cover, nor did she appreciate the sudden silence that had encroached. Their conversation seemed too loud now, but she didn't think Logan or his men would shut up even if she hissed something at them. The still and quiet was broken by horrible screaming, a sound that Alystin had heard many times in both the Fane of Lloth and the tables of torturers. As soon as Logan went to break out into a run, she seized a handful of his cloak and wrenched as hard as she could. It was a very effective choke that abruptly halted his forward motion in a way her hand on his arm would never have been able to.

"Stop," she ordered, keeping her hold. The other knights all looked at her and Logan. His position was undignified and a little bit painful, but she was doing it for a reason beyond humiliating him. That was just a little side bonus, payback for his attack on Sabal.

Logan did stop, turning around to face her. "Our men—"

"Are not alone," she interrupted with certainty even as she wove a cantrip with her fingers. It was as she suspected: there was powerful magic at work here. "There are multiple illusions on this place."

Storunn sniffed. "Bit o' brimstone on the wind," he commented. "Dunno if they're still here, but it sure looks like they were."

"I hope the others are alright. Shouldn't they have reported back by now?" Camran said, visibly uncomfortable. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and was more than happy not to run in, even though he wanted to go and heal that horribly wounded person who kept screaming. It was not a good sound.

"They can take care of themselves," Aly said with confidence. She'd seen Nendir and Linnan improve by leaps and bounds. They would be able to keep up with Sabal. Besides, it wasn't as though her lover was going to be charging into the midst of the devils.

Had she known what the plan of their scouts was, she would have been a very unhappy woman.

"As can we," Logan said sharply, tugging his cloak out of the wizard's hand with a glare that didn't seem to faze her in the slightest. "What are you suggesting we do, mage?"

"Approach slowly, and believe nothing you see, no matter how realistic or upsetting," Alystin advised.

Camran nodded, immediately understanding. For all of their priest's flaws, he understood something of magic and its ability to wreak havoc on perceptions. He readied a healing spell for the start of battle, something that prompted a small smile of approval from Aly. He was learning, at least.

Logan started forward altogether too hastily for Aly's comfort, but she could really only control her companions. If the idiot male wanted to get himself killed, that wasn't her problem. "Fool," she muttered under her breath.

"I should go with him. He doesn't have a cleric in his group, and if something were to happen to him, Vanya would be devastated," Camran said resolutely.

"Then we all go," Aly said, striding after their human ranger. She didn't like it, but she would put up with it and hope for the best. Her own nerves were beginning to intensify. Where in the Demonweb were the others?

The scene waiting for them inside the fort was a gruesome one. Pieces of knight were strewn about the place, entrails hanging from torch brackets like glistening wintertide decorations. Fragments of bone and brain decorated the walls above the savaged wrecks of raw muscle and gaping chest cavities that were the sole remains of the only people left in the place. The screaming continued deeper in and she saw Logan pressing on ahead, his face pale as white paper. She heard one of the knights being sick off to her left, but her stomach remained unturned. She consorted with demons and priestesses of Lloth in equal measure these days. This was not the worst thing she had seen by far. Storunn wasn't taking it quite as well as she was, but he seemed better off than the knights. Camran did not look good, however.

"We never actually found the bodies of the other patrols," one of the knights murmured.

"How fortunate for you," Aly said, gripping her staff a little bit more tightly. She wanted to summon a demon—preferrably something powerful like a glazebru—to defend her. In the present company, however, that was right out. Instead, she readied a cone of cold. Her fire spells would have no effect on devils, though their mortal assistants would definitely be able to feel a burn. It only grew worse as they went deeper in. Bits of people—some of them villagers if the tattered remnants of their clothing were anything to go by—were impaled on spikes like grisly trophies. Aly stepped over a summoning circle. "They have been using this area for some time." Her observation was calm and even as she focused just on her surroundings and her spell. She could feel fear later.

They arrived at the source of the screaming: a man. Half of one, anyway. His lower half was across the room, still connected by viscera. Camran looked horrified and Aly couldn't blame him in the slightest. However, she was more focused on the hulking monster now in view: a barbed devil. She knew of them: they were the jailers of the darkest souls and formidable foes even on the best of days. The creature stood upwards of seven feet tall and had to weigh more than three hundred pounds. All of it was lean muscle on a red-skinned frame covered in constantly growing and shifting spines. She had just a split second to let off her spell before the creature leaped right at her...connecting instead with Storunn, who had stepped in the way with a swing of his axe.

The withering cold sent frost blooming across the creature's razor-sharp body, shattering some of the spines. Storunn's axe bit deep into the creature, but its spines were even more formidable. The ones that hadn't shattered on its forearm slammed into Storunn, piercing his armor easily. The knights started shouting and she saw them charging into melee with the barbed devil. Unfortunately, that was the devil's favorite place to be. With a lash of its tail, it joined the fray with a cackle of delight.

Camran stepped up and immediately healed Storunn back to his normal self, leaving Alystin the freedom to focus on her own spells. She did the best thing she could think of: augment the strength and speed of the knights and Storunn. Between the priest and the wizard, they were bolstering their forces to the point where they could actually handle the creature. Storunn in particular was hacking away with a fair amount of success, his axe better designed for taking on the barbs than the swords the knights were using.

Aly started to feel confident as the creature's blows became more wild and uncontrolled. They were hurting it. Then she saw something come swinging right at eye level. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor with Camran on top of her and a barbed tail slammed wickedly against the stone right beside where her head had been. That was a potentially lethal blow that she'd avoided only through Camran's good graces.

"Thanks," she murmured with a sharp exhale, bruised from the impact with the floor.

"No problem," Camran said with a worried grin, immediately levering himself off of her to go heal again.

Alystin joined him without a second thought. She'd bestowed the augmenting spells she had prepared. Now it was time to heal wounds as they appeared, though that meant running around the area of battle with a speed not traditionally associated with someone who spent a lifetime curled up with a book. She could do it after all her training for combat, but she was going to be sore for days after this. Provided she lived. That was no guarantee in this fight.

The battle raged for what seemed like hours but was probably actually only thirty seconds. The devil laid low about half of the knights and tore Storunn's chainmail to pieces. It would have torn Storunn too, but he had Aly and Camran healing his wounds as quickly as they appeared. Any time the devil tried to reach them instead, their stout dwarf stepped in its way with another swing. He was hacking away at its legs and crippling it ever so slowly until it finally dropped over. Camran helped by bludgeoning the creature with his staff, breaking off some of the devil's spines.

"We be gettin' ye a real weapon next!" Storunn bellowed. He smiled grimly at the devil and destroyed its knee with one swing, dropping its head within reach. The dwarf buried his axe in the creature's skull, his strength increased by one of Aly's spells to the point where he could crack through even its thick bone. The creature slumped down into a twitching heap. Storunn took the chance to wrench his weapon free and chop into the creature a half dozen more times until it was obviously dead.

"Where are the other devils?" Aly demanded, not relaxing for a second. She was looking around, but the area seemed completely abandoned.

A haunting, banshee wail sounded in through the cracked wall. The knights stopped to exchange looks, fearful. Alystin knew that sound instantly: Sabal's psionics manifesting. She wasn't the only one who recognized it. "We need to go now!" Camran barked, galvanized to action. He shot through the rift in the wall without a second thought, Storunn and Aly hot on his heels with the knights coming after.

A large handful of lesser devils, mostly fleshy and grotesque lemures, were pursuing three figures out of the woods, though these appeared to be lesser creatures than the barbed devil that they'd faced. That didn't really matter, though. What they lacked in individual prowess, they made up for with teamwork. "Sabal!" Alystin shouted.

 _On our way_ , Sabal said calmly in her lover's thoughts, as if she were just out for a jog. The drowess—undisguised now that wind or possibly claws had pulled her hood back—grabbed Nendir with one hand and Linnan with the other and took a sharp left to change course towards the tower. The two went willingly with her, though Linnan was barely keeping pace with his shorter legs. Sabal grabbed the halfling with one arm around the middle and lifted as she turned her run into a sprint towards relative safety. Nendir reached the rift just ahead of her, crashing past Aly. All three of them looked very much the worse for wear. Sabal swung Linnan in through the gap and let go. He landed with the grace of an acrobat. "They can only come one or two at a time through this hole, at least until they come in through other entrances. If that happens, they divide their forces."

"Where are their summoners?" Aly asked, following without hesitation. The Knights in Silver were readying their weapons, though the mage wasn't certain if they were more worried about Sabal or the devils.

"Nendir killed two with his bow," Linnan panted. "Sabal and I took out the other two that were with the group...if there were others, we didn't see them."

"We have a more immediate problem," Sabal said, tightening her grip on her blade as she rounded on the opening where the first devil came careening through. Nendir hit it in the chest with an arrow and then Storunn extinguished its spitting face with his axe. She looked at the devil on the floor for a second, then up at her lover. "Yours was bigger than ours. I'm glad we were able to pull its reinforcements away long enough for you to dispatch it."

"Aye, lass, but ye be bringin' more," Storunn said. The devils had abruptly stopped their approach, wary eyes turned on the opening. Some were no longer in view, which meant they had either split off or were lying in wait. The creatures started speaking to each other in the harsh tones of Infernal. That meant nothing good.

Sabal and Nendir, however, didn't have to step through the crack to do damage. The elf ranger let loose arrows every time he saw even a hint of devil, earning pained snarls from the creatures. Sabal lashed out with her psionic power, that same banshee shriek splitting the air in time with a wail of infuriated pain from her victim. "Some of them have split off," she reported.

Linnan set up beside the other door, crouched down and almost invisible in the shadows. He was content to wait for their foes. Camran took the other side of the door while Nendir and Sabal stayed focused on the hole in the wall that looked out in the direction of the majority of the pack. Aly stayed towards the center of the room where she could assist either side if they started to look overwhelmed. Logan joined Camran and Linnan, while his able-bodied men split between the two sides.

Chaos erupted as the passages suddenly filled with the reeking fiends, tumorous faces twisted with sick delight at the idea of new victims. These were not the most cunning or dangerous of devils, but there were a lot of them. More than Aly had seen outside, which meant there had been more in the fort. It was complete mayhem: spells flying, blades flashing, arrows piercing, an axe cleaving...

Victory was claimed at the cost of three knights and many wounds. The gibbering devils who still remained tried to flee and were easily picked off by Nendir and Aly. Sabal was nursing a few broken ribs by the end of it, Nendir's right leg had been clawed viciously, and Linnan's left arm was dangling uselessly at his side from a deep laceration he acquired when he was thrown into one wall and nearly impaled on one of the spikes jutting outwards. Storunn's head was gushing blood, but he seemed to be doing remarkably well if his colorful appraisal of the devils' ancestry bellowed at their retreating backs was any indication. Aly and Camran had been shielded from the worst of it. Even an idiot knew to protect the healers. Logan looked like he'd been bombarded with stones, but he was alive and upright.

"Draw the fiends away, he said," Linnan panted out as he staggered over, collapsing to the ground beside Sabal, who was laying on the stone and holding her side. Nendir chuckled when the halfling continued, "It's not a bad plan, she said."

"We are alive," Aly pointed out as she crouched down by Linnan and wove a healing spell. He and Nendir were injured worse than Sabal, so they recieved her attention first even though she wanted to make certain her lover was alright more than anything. The amber-eyed drowess had no complaint, though she grimaced when she turned her head to see Logan fast approaching. He was holding his sword still, which did not put her at ease.

The drowess kicked his feet out from under him as soon as he made the mistake of stepping in range, ignoring the explosion of agony in her rib cage. "I helped you," she snarled from where she was laying. "Don't make me change my mind."

"Logan, stop," Nendir said as Aly quickly healed his leg. "Sabal is an ally, as I said."

"A drow!" Logan was honestly too battered and tired to fight, but he managed to drag his exhausted body off the ground and limp out of the drowess's reach. Her answer was to bare her teeth at him in a feral smile that seemed to say, ' _When I can breathe again..._ '. "You're an elf, Minaithelan. You know what they're like."

"I know what this drow is like, yes. And that is why I'm telling you to leave her alone," Nendir said.

"If you or your men want healing, Logan," Camran said firmly. "You will agree to leave Sabal unharmed and free to pass where she wishes."

"Are you extorting me, priest?" Logan said with a scowl.

"Yes, I suppose I am. But I'd like to think of it as encouraging you to feel the gratitude you should," Camran said evenly, refusing to break eye contact with Logan. Whether they got along perfectly or not, Sabal was part of his group and a—albeit somewhat unwilling and frequently annoyed—teacher as well.

Sabal chuckled, which turned into a wheeze. "Knew there was something I liked about you, Camran," she said. She bit back a whimper when Aly felt along her ribs, her fingers pressing lightly into the depression where her ribs had been snapped inward.

"Right into the lung," the mage said, her brow furrowed with worry. "You're going to have some bruises and there will be blood to cough up." Without waiting for a reply, Alystin started weaving a healing spell. There was an audible crack as ribs snapped back into place and Sabal sighed in relief, which quickly turned into a cough.

The wilder spat out blood, grimacing at the coppery taste. "Lovely," she groaned. Her armor wasn't in great shape any more, but it had done its job well. Had it failed, she would be dead. Still, it was probably time for a replacement set. "I'm just going to lay here for a while."

"Sounds good," Aly said, sitting down by her side and resting her back against a relatively bloodless stretch of wall between a few of the rough spikes that were clearly new additions to the fort made by the dead barbed devil. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. The exhaustion was back. Yes, the reaction of the Knights in Silver would be problematic, but she could think about that in a minute when she had her wind back.

Camran was busy staring down Nendir's old friend. "That's the price of our help, Logan," the priest said. "Sabal walks free and clear."

"Silverymoon will not extend its protection to her," Logan said brusquely.

"They would if you spoke for her," their elven ranger said. Nendir's honey-colored eyes were serious. "You have more than enough reason to vouch for her. Or tell no one. Whichever you prefer. We need to go to Silverymoon, Logan. People need to be warned, our gear needs repair or replacing, and we need a safe place to rest."

"Fine," Logan snapped. "Heal us, priest, and you will have the free passage for your drow that you request. But I cannot in good conscience keep her presence a secret, not if she were to do something."

"Then tell people. But remember whose defense she came to without asking for anything: Vanya's and yours," Camran said. He went over and started healing the Knights in Silver. He felt guilty for using their health as a bargaining chip, but it was necessary. At least Nendir didn't seem too upset.

It was not an auspicious start to their journey back the way they had come and to Silverymoon, however.


	7. The Shining Lady

Silverymoon was like nothing Sabal or Aly had expected, slowly becoming illuminated by the rays of the sun climbing slowly from behind the eastern horizon. It was a forest as much as a city, ancient trees mingling with delicate spires to touch the sky above. Aly's eyes widened despite herself as they started down the shaded flagstone sidewalks that lined each cobbled street. The stone buildings rose upward organically, almost more like growth than construction. Some of the buildings were covered in glass of blue and green hues that complemented the meeting of leaf and sky. And behind all of that was the shimmering, silver bridge of magical force which linked the older part of the city to the newer part. Nendir explained that was called the Moonbridge.

This was certainly not Menzoberranzan. This place almost felt more like a faerie's glade than a city proper. Alystin wasn't entirely certain, but it seemed to be warmer in the city than outside of it. The snow was certainly thinner here, and a crisp, clean white compared to the streets of Westerwood. She was grateful that she was warmer, whatever the reason. She suspected magic. The stones practically breathed it. It was a wondrous place. She glanced over at Sabal to see a silently appraising look on the scarred drowess's face. The wilder was not quite as awestruck as she was, but she knew Sabal couldn't appreciate the sheer amount of magic at work here without any means of detection. Still, the city was also intimidating in its alienness. She stepped a little bit closer to Sabal as they walked and did her best to ignore their local escort. Logan was still very much less than thrilled about Sabal, though he wasn't having her arrested. He would at least honor his bargain with Camran, it seemed.

"We are here," Logan said stiffly, turning to regard the small group he had walked in. "I will leave you to your own devices, but Lady Alustriel will be informed of your presence, drow."

Sabal had no doubt that any goodwill she might engender would wither without the knowledge of her assistance to the Knights in Silver passed on. Pettiness was to be expected on the surface world just as much as it might be in the Underdark. She pulled up her hood. "Do as you see fit, human," Sabal said with a just a hint of impatience. The longer she spent in his company, the longer she was delayed from carrying out the task that had been set for her by the Revered Daughter.

Logan looked over at Nendir. "I am sorry, my friend, but I cannot help you," the human ranger said. "You have entrusted your future to treachery and deceit. Throwing in your lot with this creature is ruinous at best. I would attempt to persuade you out of this madness, but I know how you are."

"Sabal is not what you think," Nendir said. It stung a little to have his friend heap such sharp criticism on him, but it wasn't a huge surprise. This also meant that word would likely reach his tutors, who would probably not be thrilled either.

"You will see as I see someday," Logan said before turning and walking away.

Aly placed a sympathetic hand on Nendir's tense shoulder. "Come on," she said, pulling him away towards the nearest inn. The others followed without needing a prompting. Sabal was looking forward to a real bed after the battle they'd been through only a few hours earlier and she knew she wasn't the only one. They were all bruised, bloody, and torn. The dent in her armor was pressing into her still tender ribs and she couldn't wait to get the suit off.

The Laughing Torch was a substantial place, occupying a full block of the city. It shared the graceful designs native to Silverymoon and almost looked like a large manor house complete with gardens. It was only the sound of revelry spilling forth from beneath the hanging sign that gave it away. The inside was burnished wood and brass, lit by enchanted torches that burned without dropping ash. The crowd appeared to be foreigners just as they were, a variety of races and languages to be found. However, everyone appeared to be getting along in a surprisingly jovial, amicable way. Maybe that was why Sabal stiffened almost immediately, uncomfortable in the crowded bar. She was used to the guardedness of the Underdark. No one in the Night Beneath was so gregarious with strangers, not even the rare followers of good gods. Strangers were _dangerous_. Aly would have given her hand a reassuring squeeze, but Sabal had very little tactile sensation through her gauntlet.

Nendir went and secured them a room, using some of the money Alystin had brought with her. As a noble who lacked extravagant tastes and had her spell components supplied by her house, the wizard always had coin to spare. Most of it had been exchanged for precious gems that were easier to carry and were readily sold for coin at any town of appropriate size or traded for services. Even though this trip was a less than planned affair, she'd managed to prepare somewhat. Sabal, for her part, rarely carried coin at all. She'd brought some for this journey, though not much. In her world, an inquisitor didn't pay for things. Either the Yath'Abban paid for it—such as when they commissioned armor or weapons for their soldiers and spies—or what she required was simply given in an effort to appease the servant of Lloth. A merchant in Menzoberranzan who didn't indulge one of the inquisitors quickly found the Church to be far less kindly disposed. It seemed unfair until one considered that the Yath'Abban did more than police the faithful: they were the first line of defense for the city, dispatching threats so quickly that often Menzoberranzan and its Houses were never aware that the danger ever existed. It was a secret war waged by Lloth's most devoted against enemies both within and without, fought ever in the shadows.

Nendir returned swiftly and passed Aly her key. He handed another one to Linnan. "Three rooms," he reported. "We can double up, if that's not an issue for anyone."

"That's fine," the wizard said. She was pleased with that arrangement as she looked over at Sabal's shadowy face. Their inquisitor was starting to sway a little bit, clearly more tired than Aly had realized. She went over and wrapped an arm around Sabal's waist. "I'll help her to bed. Goodnight. We can meet in the morning to discuss our plan from here on out."

There was a chorus of goodnights from the four before they figured out who would be sharing what room. Nendir and Camran took one while Linnan and Storunn took the other. It was a practical arrangement—one warrior with each of the non-frontline fighters. Sabal would be able to protect Aly without issue, even wounded, likely while fueled by a combination of stubborn will, rage, and psionic power. Not for the first time, Storunn pitied any idiot who tried to hurt either one of them. Their drow would be fine for the night. News hadn't spread and no one in this inn even seemed to notice them.

"Nice place," Storunn commented in his gruff voice, looking around as they climbed the stairs. Ale could wait until the morning. His head still ached something fierce and his damaged chainmail seemed particularly heavy as his tired muscles continued to propel him forward. Nendir and Linnan were even more worn out after leading the devils on a wild chase through the woods to leave the barbed devil in a weaker position. The halfling was walking with his green eyes mostly closed behind dark, shaggy hair. He kept one hand on the wall to prevent himself from falling. All four of them collapsed unceremoniously into their beds almost as soon as they kicked boots off and shed armor.

In their room, Aly helped Sabal out of her armor and hung her sword on the back of a chair next to the bed. This one was a single room, but the expansive bed was easily wide enough for two people. Cotton sheets and thick blankets kept the chill far away as soon as both of them were tucked under them. Aly left her disguise on just in case the others decided to challenge themselves and burst in through the locked door during the night. It only took a minute or two before Sabal's breathing became slow and even, one arm wrapped around Aly as the wizard curled into her side. Aly plunged into the realms of sleep almost as quickly.

Sabal did not manage to sleep for the full night, however. At some point well before dawn, she awoke restlessly, disturbed by dreams that she couldn't remember on waking. Whispers in her ears faded away to nothing as she slipped out of Alystin's embrace, but their echoes lingered. They were dark remnants of her vows that sounded more powerful in the darkness of a surface night than they had any right to. It made her aware of an aching absence. She had been chained so long that she now missed the binds. It wasn't the first night that she'd risen like this. Even back in Menzoberranzan, she sometimes found herself sleepless and agitated. The surface's alien nature merely amplified the feeling of disconnection.

She left her armor, but donned her hood and grabbed her blade in case there was trouble. She had the presence of mind to grab a whetstone as she went so that she could hone the edge of her blade if she had the opportunity for enough peace and quiet. Rather than remaining in the still-busy common room of the inn, she headed outside and across the small grounds to the tree at the corner of the lot. She was not the only person out there. A familiar face had taken up residence under the branches of the spreading oak: Camran. He looked distinctly downcast and she felt an urge to sigh. Of course he was moping.

Perhaps it was time for someone to talk to him. He was her student, as reluctant as she was to admit it. Xullae's example had taught her of an inescapable responsibility that rested on one any time they shaped another's life in such a way. Sabal padded over quietly and sat down in the grass next to the human. The snow had been warded off by the tree branches, making this a relatively dry spot. She slid her blade out of its sheath and examined the edge for dull spots or burrs. She would rather slice flesh than tear it if she could. The blade had no gleam to it after being treated with smoke.

"I'm not in the mood for 'I told you so', Sabal," Camran said quietly. His eyes were fixed out at the sky.

"You will find someone who cares for you, Camran," the drowess said instead of snapping at him. She found a troublesome spot on her sword's edge and decided to take care of it now that she had the time. "I am told that fondness comes easier to open hearts."

Camran's head whipped around so that he could stare at her in disbelief. "Are you trying to comfort me?" he asked. He would have been less surprised if she'd sprouted a second head.

"I'm telling you what I think," Sabal said with her sort of casual forthrightness. "Whether it comforts you or not is your business. You didn't truly care for Vanya. She didn't truly care for you. Such charm fades like smoke in wind. You liked the idea of her. You barely knew who she really was."

"And what do you know of love?" the priest said sharply.

Sabal shrugged. "I know what it is not. That infatuation was just that—infatuation. The things you really care for, they do not simply float into your life. They are born of work and effort. They make you burn, yes, but they also become a part of you. They require protection, perseverance, and patience. They are slow-growing things that send down deeper roots with each passing year until they cannot be swept away. Look at me and tell me honestly that this is what Vanya was to you."

Camran let out a sigh. "She could have been," he muttered.

"Living on dreams of futures that might have been is called starvation," Sabal said as she carefully began the process of honing her blade. The soft, rhythmic scrape of steel against stone was oddly comforting to Camran. He'd grown used to it over the course of the past few months, from all of his companions save Aly tending to their weapons. It had become a safe sound. "Find someone that you can trust. Show them that they can trust you. And when you have that trust? Guard it more than your own life. Nothing is rarer or more valuable than that."

"That sounds like advice worthy of Sune," Camran said with a chuckle. He regretted it when he saw the glare from beneath the shadow of her hood.

"Do not confuse me with a mouthpiece of your surface goddess," Sabal said frostily. "When you have survived as long as I have, when you have seen that in every shadow there is a waiting dagger, then you begin to appreciate the value of a true ally. That is all."

"You have no romance in your soul, Sabal," the priest said, studying her. "How do you expect to ever find love?"

"What you call love is not a thing to be found or lost," Sabal said, sounding irritated just by the word. Her thoughts drifted to Aly, who was hopefully still asleep in bed. The wizard would likely be upset if she woke to empty sheets and already Sabal was beginning to miss the rare contact. It had been a foolish thing to step out, even if the winter chill was clearing her head. "It is a sacrifice that one makes, which can never be erased." She stood up and relaxed a little. Her connection to the Demonweb remained, but it had become a faint whisper of comforting power rather than the aching phantom pain it had been when she first woke up. "I shouldn't leave our mage unprotected and you shouldn't spend the night brooding. We have things to do in the morning."

Camran studied her for a moment, weighing her words carefully for truth. It was an interesting little window into his companion's world. It had some merit to it, too. He'd read a lot of stories about sacrifice for love. Sune's teachings very much embraced that facet of it. Maybe he'd been too caught up in sole attraction to remember those tales and teachings. It was just a little bit uncomfortable that the person who had knocked him back into himself was their drow. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I was being foolish."

"Yes, you were," Sabal said brusquely. "I will see you in the morning."

He watched her go, a little bit bemused, before returning to his room. Nendir stirred when the door opened and then closed behind Camran. "You alright?" the elf asked groggily, recognizing his companion.

"Fine," Camran assured him before laying down. Sleep came easily now, his thoughts easing.

Just down the hall, Sabal slipped in with significantly more stealth. She returned her hood, boots, and sword to their places, then set the whetstone down on the side table. She slipped back beneath the covers and settled in against Alystin's warm body. The wizard rolled towards her lover, still asleep, and hid her face against Sabal's shoulder. It prompted a little smile from the inquisitor. She smoothed a hand over the mage's currently brown hair, no longer bothered by the disguise. Whatever she looked like, she was still Aly. "Sleep well, _ussta xukuth_ ," she murmured.

She didn't know what the surface's love really meant. She only knew what the Underdark held, its root buried deep in madness and desolation. It was an insanity that danced to the beat of disaster's dreadful drum, but it was something so beautiful and alluring that once it'd touched with the barest tips of its fingers, she'd been caught as fast as she might have been in any web of Lloth's. All she knew for certain about the future was that her fate and Aly's were inescapably intertwined...for better and for worse.

Sabal had done many things she regretted over the course of her centuries-long life, but she didn't regret even a moment of this.

* * *

"I brought you a present, Sabal. Aly and the others are outside," Nendir announced, setting what were apparently somewhat heavy packages wrapped in plain burlap on their table in the Laughing Torch. He, Camran, Linnan, and Aly had vanished without any real explanation at the beginning of the day. Now it was well into the afternoon. Sabal and Storunn had been about to go out looking for them when Nendir arrived. When the drowess looked up at him, he could see the shadowy suggestion of a raised eyebrow beneath the hood. "Relax, it's nothing bad. Go ahead."

Sabal flipped the cloth away to reveal the pieces of a beautiful set of leather and scale armor in an elven design. It looked comparable to her damaged set in weight and strength, though the true measure of such things was performance in battle. The patterns were not of webs, but instead swirling and curving leaves in interlocking patterns. It was not as dark as her drow armor, but Nendir had clearly requested it be unpolished, as its surface was a dull grey mingled with the rich brown leather. Even though the aesthetics were very much foreign, she was genuinely pleased with the look of the craftsmanship. She ran her fingers over the chestpiece before picking up the gauntlets. She examined the articulation, bending one of the gauntlet's fingers. It was flexible enough that she would have relatively good dexterity, but not lacking in protection. It didn't have the sharp points at the fingers like razor nails of her current armor, but that was a small loss compared to this. It was also a little bit less attention-grabbing than her markedly foreign armor. "What metal is this?" she asked, setting the gauntlet down.

"Mithril. It's much lighter than it looks," Nendir said. He could hear the appreciation in her voice and that made him grin. Sabal probably wouldn't admit that she liked the look of elven armor, but he knew she was pleased. "Aly took the measurements from your old armor. It should fit. The dimensions are the same."

"A fine gift," Sabal said with only a trace of her significant surprise showing. She wasn't used to receiving anything without performing a service or winning a favor, and the nature of the world didn't change in her mind whether the sun was above or not. She looked up at the elf and studied his expression for a moment. If she took this armor, it would be an acknowledgment that she was beginning to trust him. It would mean she believed he would not attempt to sabotage her by weakening her last line of defense against her foes in the world. She picked up the chestpiece again, examining it intently. There was no sign of tampering or at least not an obvious one. She kept her scrutiny short so it was not apparent that she had decided to check it. "It was made by one who has mastered their craft."

Nendir's grin widened. "So what you're saying is that you'll keep it?"

"It will serve admirably, I think," Sabal said with careful word choice. She knew full well that everything carried a price. Yvonnel and the Yath'Abban gave her everything she wanted—including the freedom to see Aly—but only because they knew that they owned her body and her soul, in life and death. Being freed from the profane magic that had formed what inquisitors referred to as their 'vows' had granted freedom of a sort, but not the carte blanche kind that Alystin had no doubt imagined when she made her demonic pact. Sabal was still Lloth's. The collar didn't cut so deeply, so obviously, but it was still just as powerful as before. The wilder knew it, too, but one had to choose what battles to fight in life and an intractable one against a greater deity was not her first choice.

Besides, who would she be if she didn't have Lloth? For as long as she could remember, the Spider Queen's influence dominated her life. Her memories of the House of Abandonment were hazy at best. The servants of the Goddess had become her family. Every moment of every day, she had learned to strive her hardest and do her best to please one power in the world: Lloth. For an inquisitor, the Spider Queen's favor was every bit as important, if not more so, as it was for a cleric. After all, Her priestesses did not walk around constantly shackled with those agonizing, invisible chains that were only ever loosed by the Goddess's favor. Sabal had resisted her bonds more than the others, but she'd _paid_ for that. Aly had never witnessed the penances that Yvonnel put her through after every failure in duty. She was grateful for that small kindness on the part of the Revered Daughter. Never would she blame anyone for simply surrendering to Lloth's will. Obedience was the wisest course, the easiest, the safest course. It was even probably the right course. But as disobedient as she could be, as resentful as she sometimes felt, Sabal was faithful in the fervent way of the drow, her whole being burning with a desperate craving for some divine connection.

When all the world was dark, empty, and silent, what did one have besides faith?

Nendir's smile faded when he realized that Sabal was for a moment looking not at him, but instead into some distance he would never know the measure of. "You alright?" he asked.

"Thinking," Sabal said. She looked down at the armor again. "What would you have me do in return?"

The elf blinked. "What?" he said, perplexed for a moment.

Sabal waved her hand at the gear. "All of this. You arranged it. If I were to accept, I would be indebted to you. I prefer to know the cost before I pay it whenever possible, as I have made many blind leaps and most of them have ended with me in the fire."

"There is no price, Sabal. It's a gift. It means I want you to have it and I don't want anything in return," Nendir said as patiently as he could. Alystin had warned him when he clued her in on his plan that Sabal was a suspicious creature and the reception would not be a simple thanks and then moving on. What he hadn't realized was just how warped the drow seemed to be. Had Sabal really never been given a gift in good faith?

"Everyone always wants something," Sabal said with her customary shortness, turning over the gauntlet in her hands. She could tell she had probably just wounded the elf's feelings a little bit, but it wasn't as if that was her intent.

It was time, Nendir decided, not to rant or snap at her. Getting combative was likely what she expected from him, judging by the way she was sitting so that she could kick the table at him and get to her feet while he was picking himself up off the floor after the impact with flung wood. Sabal had done it to him once already in the Underdark, to prove that a sitting foe was just as dangerous as a standing one with surprise on their side. The lesson it left, as well as the bruise, was slow to fade. "Fine, I want something," he said. When she looked back up at him, he offered her a smile. "I wanted to thank you, Sabal. I've never had anyone who torments me the way that you do, and while I can't say I'm enjoying it, I can see the results. Our battle with the fiends might've been very different without the conditioning, training, and frequent beatings you and Storunn dish out on a regular basis. I owed you this much at least. Besides, if you go down in combat, who's going to cover my back? Camran?"

It worked. He heard the drowess laugh, a rare sound for her. "Very well," Sabal said, rising to her feet. "It will go to good use."

Nendir knew that was as close to ' _Thank you_ ' as he was probably ever going to get. "Glad to hear it," he answered with a small smile. He turned around in time to see the others coming in, but they were not relaxed and joking the way they had been when they left the inn. "What's wrong?"

"Your friend Logan is back," Aly said, her shoulders tensed. "It would appear that your Lady Alustriel would like to speak to us and she doesn't seem particularly inclined to give us the opportunity to say no. Not an arrest, but certainly a very pushy escort. Or maybe that's just Logan."

Sabal cursed inside the privacy of her own head. She knew should have killed him when she had the chance. "I'm putting my armor on," she said as she stood up. "I have no intention of making it easy for him to plunge a dagger into my kidney."

"He wouldn't stab you in the back, Sabal," Nendir said reproachfully.

She gave him a look. "In the heart, then," she said, buckling on the elvish armor. It fit better than she had been expecting, but then again, drow forms were no different than the slender bodies of their surface cousins and Aly had apparently taken her measurements. It was lighter than her old set, but equally strong, at least from what she knew of mithril. She didn't rush, either. If it annoyed Logan to wait, she would do it gladly. Sabal took the final step of winding her crimson sash around her waist and then grabbed her sword. "Let's go."

Logan was waiting impatiently in the courtyard with a handful of other Knights in Silver. There were just enough that it would be a difficult fight to win if their group tangled with them, but not so many that it seemed excessive. Camran looked perhaps the most displeased out of their group, largely because Aly and Sabal had expected this sooner than later.

"You said she would have free passage," the priest said as he squared off with Logan, surprisingly angry for his gentle nature. "Is this the worth of the word of a Knight in Silver?"

"She is merely answering questions, priest," Logan growled. "Now quiet or I will have you gagged."

"How charming you are, human. No wonder Vanya is besotted: your eloquence is clearly without rival," Sabal said as she arrived at the tail end of his response, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "If you are done threatening Camran, we are prepared to follow you."

Camran couldn't help a little smile. Sometimes it was oddly satisfying to see another run afoul of Sabal's acidic tongue. It became even better when Logan's face turned red. Apparently Sabal had found some kind of nerve. The human ranger said nothing, however, and began their march towards the Moonbridge.

The High Palace quickly became visible as they reached the silvery bridge of force that stood about fourteen feet wide and sixty feet above the coursing blue river below. It was a soaring, spired building of white marble that drew the eye of everyone passing to and fro in this section of the city. Aly let her own gaze rest for a moment on the carved unicorn heads that were part of the palace's crenelated battlements. What significance did the creatures have here? It seemed to be substantial. Stepping in lead to a world worthy of the near-mythic stories that Camran had heard growing up: gleaming marble floors and lofty ceilings decorated by verdant, hanging plants with many colorful blooms and rich tapestries of beautiful design. The priest gaped a little at the relief-carved images of vines, ferns, flowers, and trees on every wall. For Linnan and Nendir, this was apparently a more familiar place. Neither looked quite as awed. Storunn seemed his normal stoic self as he looked around. Sabal, for her part, was concerned with a more practical fixture of the palace: the guards with their silvery armor and stern faces. Some of them were clearly trained in the arcane arts and there were plenty of stout fighters here. If something went wrong, Sabal would be hard pressed to prevent her own arrest. That didn't reassure her in the slightest.

Logan didn't appear to notice her scrutiny, focused on his goal. Instead of leading them to the main audience hall, he detoured to a smaller and more private sitting room at the base of one of the towers. It was well appointed, with green armchairs and couches surrounding a large oak table covered by a map of the Sword Coast and surrounding areas. There was enough space for the six of them to sit without being crammed together. As soon as they stepped in, Logan rounded on them. "You will surrender your weapons now," he ordered.

The group as a whole turned to look at Sabal a little bit apprehensively. Out of all of them, Sabal was the most likely to inquire politely which organ he would like it surrendered into. Even Aly expected her lover to become agitated at the request. Instead, the wilder unbuckled her sword belt and balanced the sword on her palms, presenting it to Logan without objection. He looked as surprised as everyone else in the room. Then again, Aly supposed it made sense. Sabal was anything but unarmed and she could probably take someone else's sword quite quickly. Logan didn't know about the wilder's powers.

Sabal stepped in close when Logan reached for her sword, allowing him to take it but being uncomfortably inside his personal space. "Enjoy this moment while you have it, male," the drowess said, her tone almost genial. "It will not come again."

It wasn't exactly a threat, but he still found himself unsettled as he stepped backwards away from her and then composed himself again. He collected the weapons from the others, though he had to wait a few moments for Linnan to produce all of them out of concealment on his body. Even then, though Logan didn't know it, the halfling retained one long dagger just in case. Besides, it was his lucky knife. Nendir was not pleased to have to give over his own, more because it hurt him to know that Logan trusted him so little now.

Sabal pulled her hood back and shook out her white hair, relaxing a little bit now that she was herself. Obviously Alustriel already knew what she was, otherwise her presence wouldn't have been requested in this way. Why hold to pretenses? There was also the added bonus that her appearance intimidated some of the guards. Do'Urden might have become a familiar face in this place, but female drow were well known to be creatures of an entirely different nature. Sabal was fine with that. Their discomfort made her more comfortable, in a strange way. It was a reaction that she knew what to do with.

Nendir looked over at his amber-eyed companion. "I am sorry about this, Sabal," he said as he took a seat. "You're not seeing us at our finest. Lady Silverhand will be much more understanding. She is very wise and very kind. You are not here to do harm and she will know that once she's talked to you."

Sabal just nodded a little bit in response. She personally doubted that, particularly if the activities of Lord Holt were being permitted. Perhaps he moved in secret, but it was certainly possible for someone to know and turn a blind eye. Either Alustriel was very wrong about Holt—which would be a rare error in judgment for the woman according to what Nendir had told her on the road—or she knew and allowed it to continue. Honestly, she trusted Laug and his orcs more than any human or elf she'd encountered this far other than Nendir and Camran. Even they had taken time to prove themselves and it was not a perfect relationship by far.

Alystin had her own concerns. If Alustriel knew who had sent her and Sabal, she would likely be far less kindly disposed towards them. The wizard twisted her ring nervously. She had gone to an immense amount of effort and expense to conceal the enchantment on the ring as they traveled through the Underdark. It was now masked as a mundane ring, with perhaps some small traces of residual magic. Even the Archmage of Sorcere would have been hard pressed to detect its true nature, which she hoped would keep it from the scrutiny of a spellcaster as proficient as Alustriel Silverhand. Being revealed herself would be very, very unpleasant. Probably just as much as having her mistress revealed. Sabal's own loyalties were equally damning, were they to come out. But Alystin kept herself from appearing anxious by taking a mental catalogue of what spells she had prepared and studying the tapestries on the walls.

They weren't left to wait long after Logan carried their weapons out of the room. Alustriel stepped in through the door, every bit as radiant as Nendir remembered. His father was part of the Spellguard, so he'd been fortunate enough to have made the Lady Silverhand's acquaintance on an occasion or two. The noblewoman's long hair was silver and her eyes matched it in brightness, warm as they looked over the group. She moved gracefully over to the armchair opposite to their own seats on the other side of the table and sat down. "Welcome to Silverymoon, all of you," she said in a voice clear like crystal. "Minaithelan, it is good to see you again. Your family is disappointed that you haven't stopped to visit them. Logan has told me a very little bit about your companions."

"Thank you, my lady," Nendir said respectfully. "I hope Logan has not misrepresented the situation. He is a good man, but he was very upset."

Alustriel smiled. "He did, rather grudgingly, tell me that your friends were very helpful in dispatching the devils he encountered," she said with a hint of amusement. "Vanya Silivrenniel also contacted me on your behalf. You and your companions did save her, though she made note that your hooded companion was less than pleased with that course of action."

"She _was_ spying on us," Alystin said reasonably, keeping a firm grip on her nerves. "And we know that our enemy is actively hunting us. The natural conclusion for us to draw is that she was one of them. That is why Sabal was so defensive. She is a good woman. She just meant to protect us."

Alustriel seemed to consider this seriously. "And that Vanya is an elf had no bearing on this matter?"

"Some," Aly admitted honestly. She knew that a direct lie here would be no more advisable than lying outright to a Matron Mother. It was merely a matter of framing things just right to evade punishment, which sometimes meant leaving things out. "But we travel in the company of one as well. Elves are like any other people: they have their good and their bad."

"Sabal has treated me no differently than Camran or Linnan or Storunn," Nendir said.

"And how has she treated all of you?" the noblewoman asked. Her questions were patient and sympathetic rather than accusatory. Sabal was surprised by the tolerance, but somewhat grateful. Perhaps Do'Urden's soft-headedness had done her a favor indirectly. There was a certain irony in there somewhere.

"Roughly, but fairly," Camran said. He fidgeted a little and his cheeks reddened with embarrassment when Lady Alustriel looked at him. He wasn't exactly used to coming to the attention of anyone important. However, he knew he had to continue now. "Sabal's been training us. It's not the most gentle style of teaching in the world, but she's not being malicious. Just trying to prepare us for fighting fiends. And it must be worthwhile, because we're still alive."

"Aye," Storunn agreed. "Me an' the drow just thump 'em now and then so devils don't come suprisin'. Love tap here or there, maybe a bloody nose or two—builds character."

Alystin winced a little bit. "Don't help, Storunn," she murmured to the dwarf. "The last thing she needs to think is that you two terrorize Camran and Nendir with regular beatings."

The dwarf just chuckled.

If she'd heard, Alustriel said nothing. Her kind eyes merely turned to Linnan. "Do you have anything to add, Linnan Leafrunner?"

The halfling cleared his throat a little nervously and allowed his shaggy hair to fall into his face, concealing his eyes. "Well, ma'am," he started as he rubbed his unsteady hands together to hide his slight tremor. Much like Camran, he'd never actually met Alustriel or anyone so important. He'd been in the High Palace before with Nendir a time or two, but not to actually see anyone. "Way I see it, Sabal didn't have to help bust us out of prison. Didn't have to teach us. Didn't have to step up to the bandits for Vanya. Didn't have to come back for Logan's sorry a—uhm, 'scuse me, ma'am—at the ruins. She and Aly have been solid friends to us, even when it coulda gone real bad for them, like back in Gracklstugh."

When he glanced over at the dark elf, he saw a tiny, grateful smile. It made him glad to know he was at least helping his friend out. And Sabal was a friend, even if she wouldn't call him one back. She'd done her aboslute best to keep him and Nendir and Camran alive, even when that meant throwing herself at devils to protect him. He still remembered that initial rescue from the duergar, too. He had been certain that he would die in that miserable hole or worse. He would never forget that she and Aly had gone out of their way to secure his freedom and had even taken Nendir with them despite the emnity between drow and elf.

Alustriel inclined her head respectfully to Linnan before finally looking to Sabal. She frowned slightly. It was obvious that she was a very different kind of drow than Drizzt Do'Urden. There was not much in the way of softness to Sabal's scarred face. There was sharpness and rough edges and acidity. The amber eyes that fixed on hers in return were intense even now, without Logan's presence in the room. They weren't resentful or angry, but they were definitely wary. If those marks were any indication, she knew hardship well. Lady Silverhand was well known for being an excellent judge of character. What she saw before her an aloof, cruel, vindictive, proud creature that hid well any positive characteristics she might possess. And yet, she had a feeling there was more to the woman than that. "Thank you, all of you," Alustriel said. "I would like a few words alone with your drow friend before I make my decision. If you could wait out in the hallway?"

"Of course, my lady," Nendir said, offering her a polite bow that the others mimicked. Their elven ranger ushered them out into the hallway where Logan was waiting. He smiled at the human knight. "Thanks for telling Alustriel about the ruins, Logan."

"I said I would," Logan said with a shrug. "And Vanya thought I should."

Alystin turned to the others. "Thank you, all of you," she said softly. "None of you had to speak for Sabal, but I'm very, very glad you did. Do you think—"

"She'll be alright, lass," Storunn said, patting Aly on the back. "Even if her foot goes right in her mouth."

"Storunn..." Camran said with a sigh, noting that Aly didn't seem particularly reassured.

"Sabal can handle this," Nendir said reassuringly to their wizard, who was looking more and more anxious as time started to stretch on. "She survived Durna Thuldark, a ruler far less inclined towards mercy and understanding."

That seemed to reach the wizard. She nodded a little and even managed a tiny smile. "You're right," she said softly. "If Sabal has managed this long, she'll have no problem."

Back in the room, Sabal subtly shifted the way she was standing so that her feet were shoulder-width apart and her hands were clasped behind her back in the natural position she assumed whenever she was being addressed by a priestess. Respectful, but not subservient. Her amber eyes had followed Alystin and the others to the door, but she said nothing and made no motion. As soon as they were outside, her attention focused right back on the smiling woman in front of her. Sabal couldn't help the feelings of mistrust. Her experiences with the powerful had well informed her that rarely was her best interest at anyone's heart. Even Yvonnel would cast her into the flames of the Nine Hells without a hint of regret if it were necessary.

"You have nothing to fear from me," Alustriel said kindly. "I just wish to know what brings you to the surface. I have met very few drow on the surface, and you seem to have different training. But you are not a priestess."

"No, I am not," Sabal said. Her tone was terse, but not particularly hostile. She didn't bear any ill will towards this human, nor did she feel wronged or insulted. She was very much neutral on this whole matter, though Logan annoyed her.

"So why are you here, Sabal?" Alustriel said. The noblewoman appeared to be making an effort to be polite, rather than simply addressing her as 'drow'.

"Because Alystin is here," Sabal said. That was a much easier, safer, and more honest answer than saying it was the will of Lloth. "Where she goes, I follow."

The mage looking at the drow inquisitor rested her chin in her hands. "A very admirable devotion. Logan did mention that you are her defender. Your loyalty to a human is unusual for one of your people from what I understand. The drow are very..."

"Xenophobic?" Sabal suggested.

Alustriel thought she heard a faint hint of amusement in that tone. She laughed. "I was going to say insular, but that will do as well. You have also been loyal to your friends, at least as far as they are concerned. Are you from Menzoberranzan?"

Sabal's expression didn't even flicker, providing Alustriel no insight into what her emotional response to the inquiry was, if she'd had one. "Yes."

"What House are you from?" Alustriel inquired curiously. "You have no glyph or sigil."

"I am houseless," Sabal answered. "I have no family."

"I'm sorry. That does not sound easy," Alustriel said. It was strange to hear such sympathy from a stranger, but Sabal felt no indication that it was insincere. That puzzled the drow. She was struggling to find what angle Lady Silverhand had. The lack of one was more terrifying than its presence, in a strange way. She knew what to do with agendas.

The drowess shrugged indifferently. "It was what it was. It is done with now."

The casual attitude towards what had undoubtedly been a great kind of suffering made Alustriel realize that the drowess had been through enough that abandonment and solitude were not the worst of the bunch, nor even abnormal. Maybe what this particular dark elf needed was a chance to see a world apart from that. Drizzt had proven that the drow were not all evil. Why should she deny this one the chance to prove she was good as well? "I would guess that was not the only pain you've had in your life," Alustriel said gently. "I am glad that you've found people who care about you, Sabal."

Sabal stiffened slightly. She was tempted to snap, but she understood in a vague way that this was sympathy, distinct from pity. "They need me," Sabal said abruptly. "That is all."

"I think that if you asked them, you would find that they stay because they want to, not because they have to," Alustriel said. She cleared her throat. "I would like to invite you to remain here as a guest, Sabal. If you and your friends are hunting devils, I would like to render my assistance. Besides, if you have come all the way from Menzoberranzan, you need the rest."

The drowess raised an eyebrow. "Here?"

"We do have guest rooms, yes. You may stay at the inn, but I promise you that people will be less judgmental here. The beds are also more comfortable," Alustriel said as she stood up. "I look forward to talking to you again later. In the meantime, I have to attend to some visiting diplomats. I'll make sure that Logan and everyone else knows of my decision. Let's return you to your friends."

Sabal wasn't entirely certain what to say. She settled on two unfamiliar words. "Thank you."

Lady Alustriel just smiled serenely as she opened the door. "I'll take that to mean you accept." The silver-haired woman looked at her knight, who was standing on the other side of the hall talking to Nendir about some of the things Sabal had been teaching him. "Logan, will you please help our guests find some rooms among the quarters for visitors? They will be staying here for a time."

No one out in the hallway seemed to know what to make of that. "Us?" Camran blurted out.

"Yes," Sabal said, resisting the impulse to roll her eyes. She did appreciate what Camran had done for her not so long beforehand, just as much as she appreciated what Alustriel was doing for her now. It was probably a trap, but the gesture was nice. She must have sounded impatient, because Logan glared at her and Nendir chuckled. The elf's relentless need to find her irritation amusing did not endear him to her. She preferred it when he'd looked appropriately cowed, as a male should. Or at least, that's what she would have told anyone who asked. "If you could postpone your disbelief until we are settled? I'm certain Lady Silverhand has other things to do than answer vapid questions."

Camran blinked. "Right," he said, recovering. He didn't even look offended. After all, he had been all but gaping at the noblewoman, which was not exactly the most dignified response.

Alustriel seemed just as amused as Nendir, smiling faintly as she walked away and left them alone with Logan. "Do give them their weapons back," she called over her shoulder just before she disappeared around the corner.

Logan motioned to the side table where their weapons were lying in a pile. "There," he said, eyeing Sabal cautiously. "Well, if Lady Alustriel trusts you, you can't be all rotten."

"Your approval fills me with contempt," Sabal said with a winning smile as she picked up her sword. It felt good to have the weight of the weapon at her hip again. She always felt strangely exposed without something there. It was also immensely satisfying to see the scowl appear on Logan's face. She still didn't like him, not after his unprovoked attack simply because she'd looked something like a cultist. Honestly, did the man not know how to observe properly? Her armor at the time had been nothing even remotely resembling that worn by Asmodeus's faithful.

"Sabal..." Camran groaned, watching Logan stomp down the hall towards the guest quarters. Nendir and Linnan went right after him, leaving the rest of the group to catch up.

Aly covered her mouth with her hand so Camran didn't see her smirking too. It was bad enough that Sabal seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed that.

"What'd ye say, lass?" Storunn asked curiously, looking up at Sabal as they walked after Logan.

"I'm not certain," Sabal said with a shrug. "Perhaps it was what I didn't say."

The rooms waiting for them were absolutely beautiful and far, far more comfortable than they had any right to be. They would still be doubled up, but that was hardly a problem with the amount of space they had. The mattresses were thick and soft under warm blankets and smooth sheets, the sunlight pouring in through broad windows adding additional radiant heat that made them forget it was even winter outside. "You two will be sharing a bed. The only room we had left was a suite. There are many visitors in the Palace at the moment, with the Council convening within the week," Logan told Aly while Sabal was down the hall conferring quietly with Linnan. "Unless, of course, you want to force someone else to take it."

"It will be fine," Alystin assured him, amused by the idea that she'd want to keep Sabal at arm's length. She wasn't certain what Linnan and Sabal were talking about, but she suspected that it was probably better not to leave them too long, lest they start to scheme. "Sabal, do you mind sharing a room with me?"

"I'd prefer it. How can I defend you if I cannot reach you?" Sabal said, coming over with Linnan at her side. Camran, Nendir, and Storunn had left to fetch the gear. The drowess and the halfling had developed a certain understanding, largely because Linnan was the least inclined to criticize Sabal for doing things that weren't necessary fair or legal. Not that she had needed to do anything illegal...yet. "Linnan and I were just discussing the training yard. If the Knights in Silver would permit us to use it, we could continue training."

"Of course," Logan said. "I'd love to see just what being trained by a drow looks like."

"Remarkably like being trained by a surface dweller, only effective," Sabal said without missing a beat.

"Sabal, behave," Aly said chidingly. "Logan is not our enemy."

"For the moment," Sabal said, ignoring the human's glare. "When Camran, Storunn, and Nendir get back, we need to have a talk about where to go from here. We need more information."

"Silverymoon is a good place to find it," the wizard said. "Thank you, Logan." Once the human had huffed and stormed off, she reached out and caught her lover's hand, pulling her into the room. Once the door was closed, she grinned. "I bet the walls are much thicker here than at the inn. And even better, we're not right next to them."

The inquisitor smiled. "You think so?" she murmured, touching her forehead to Aly's.

Alystin flicked her fingers, conjuring up a magical lock on the door. "I think I'd like to find out."

* * *

 _Ussta xukuth_ \- my heart


	8. Plan

Sabal quickly developed a strange sort of fascination with the High Palace's many gardens, still and quiet as they were in winter for the most part. There were finches and the like that dwelt in the north all year long, but most of them were softer-spoken birds and the snow went a long ways towards muting the sounds. Her appreciation for surface beauty was slowly growing despite her fondness for the bleak, harsh wonders of the Underdark. The sunlit realms would never be home, but they had their own aesthetic appeal. She particularly enjoyed the icicles that formed on the branches of the trees, reflecting the sunlight in a rainbow of colors and casing strange patterns of light and shadow in shaded areas of snow like a prism. Like a flame, they could be manipulated as well with a subtle brush of her powers as they melted and then refroze. She was avoiding any displays of power, however. Any surprise they could keep in reserve for Holt was one worth preserving. Besides, it might prompt awkward questions from their host.

People had been courteous, if extremely wary, around her. The vitriol that she'd expected was not directed her way, likely due to Alustriel's attitude towards intolerance, at least if Nendir was to be believed. As a native of Silverymoon, he had a high opinion of Lady Silverhand. Whatever the reason, Sabal found herself grateful. It also made her strangely philosophical. Part of her couldn't help but wonder what all of this meant, what Alustriel had seen that gave her pause. She was no Eilistraeean renegade, nor any other particularly good kind of person. She hunted people, either to kill them or drag them back to things worse than death on rare occasions. Sabal was even good at it—she took pride in her grisly work in her own way. It wasn't something to be reveled in as some drow did, but there was satisfaction to the fulfillment of purpose. It was not something conducive to the approval of supposedly 'good' people. She always took that appellation with a grain of salt. What others called 'good' was subjective and mutable, in her experience.

"Thinking hard or hardly thinking?" Nendir asked pleasantly as he approached the drowess. He'd noted she seemed to be more reserved than usual, which deprived all of them of the acidic commentary they'd come to expect from their wilder. The past two days had yielded no opportunity to practice together or even really sit down as a group again and talk the way they had on the road. Nendir's family stole his attentions, Alystin and Linnan were gathering intelligence where they could, Camran was at the local temple of Sune hunting for guidance, and Storunn was roughing up the Knights in Silver during training bouts—a pastime he had expected Sabal to gleefully join the dwarf in. Instead, he only caught a glimpse of her occasionally, drifting through the gardens and halls like a solitary shadow.

"Somewhere between the two," Sabal said distantly. Her sword hand was lingering over her heart, touching the place where the symbol of Lloth had once sat. "Being away from everything, being out of the chase, it's a rare thing. It gives me a chance to...consider...the road ahead. To take stock. To decide what is important."

"That sounds ominous," Nendir said with a chuckle, sitting down on a carved stone bench that stood near the drowess's patch of shade. "You know, I think Aly misses you. She doesn't have her brooding shadow right now."

"She's preoccupied with the mages. I think if she had the opportunity, she would spend years here. The collected magical knowledge held within Silverymoon is extensive. She was very excited about seeing the archives with Lady Alustriel's permission," Sabal said, smiling without realizing it. There was always something wonderful about seeing Aly's girlish delight when embarking on a venture of academic exploration. The wizard was always seeking out new knowledge, and she had stumbled into plenty of it here.

"After this is over, you could stay," Nendir offered. "Even if not at Lady Alustriel's hospitality. Adventuring pays on the surface, certainly enough to create a life here. Aly would have a chance to study as much as she wants."

"There's not enough time in existence for Aly to study as much as she wants," the amber-eyed drowess said with amusement. "I'll pass on your idea to her. Perhaps she'll consider it for a time."

"And you?"

Sabal sighed. That was a very good question. What would she do if Aly decided to stay? Remaining on the surface would not be a viable solution for long. Inquisitors were valuable and in high demand. Yvonnel would send people looking if she divined Sabal was still alive but had not returned, and they would not be nice, understanding people. They were people who would remedy the problem of her companions with abandon...and those would not be their sole victims. More than that, Sabal wasn't certain she wanted to stay. "Menzoberranzan is my home," she said quietly. "Lady Alustriel has been very generous, but this is not my world. I belong here no more than you belong in the City of Spiders. I am not a creature lost between worlds as Drizzt Do'Urden was. I know my place, my purpose."

"As Alystin's bodyguard?" Nendir said with confusion and a little bit of unease. Occasional Sabal said things that worried him and Camran—he and the human agreed on that much. Little hints of a darker story. "It would make more sense for you to stay with her."

Sabal shook her head. "It is more complicated than that," she said vaguely. She had no desire to discuss Yvonnel, Lloth, and her order with the elf. Nendir had proven himself to be a reliable companion, but that did not mean he would understand her current position. Lloth's dictates would normally demand that she kill him, after all. Thankfully, there was room to flex for more complicated situations like this one. "Aly knows that. Still, I suppose we'll see."

Nendir nodded, though in his mind this line of inquiry was far from over. He saw Logan on the approach. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Logan and the other Knights in Silver wanted to watch us train. Linnan's ditching us to go guard Aly, though."

Sabal frowned. She didn't like the idea. Watching someone train could give a sense of their real combat. That said, her ego was inclined to put Nendir and Camran through their paces just to prove the boys were rapidly becoming a well-trained pair. They weren't ready to keep up with herself, Aly, or Storunn, but they had improved by leaps and bounds since they began their training. "I suppose," Sabal said. "Though my plan for today was blind-fighting."

Nendir and Camran had been drilling on it for a few weeks now, usually without much warning. When they were locked in combat with Storunn, who had a good grasp of fighting in the dark, Sabal would randomly drop a globe of darkness on them. It was infuriating, but good practice. When she wasn't doing that, they found themselves in blindfolds with the drowess coaching them. _Watch the sound, feel the sentiment of the blade against your blade, feel for movement, attend to their breathing._ It was so much harder than either student had imagined, and neither of them had expected it would be easy. Still, it was paying off even when their eyes were open. The awareness of their other senses, just below their awareness, gave them a strange sort of danger sense. It made dodging Sabal's slaps to the back of the head when she was annoyed a little bit easier. Not much easier, though, not with how fast the drowess moved.

"It'll be fun. Maybe you can practice with them too," Nendir suggested.

"I don't think they're ready for Sabal's tender loving care," Camran said as he approached along the garden path.

Sabal laughed. "They're knights, aren't they?" she said with amusement.

Nendir studied her scarred visage. "I don't think most have seen combat like you have," he said. "I mean, a half dozen centuries of constant war?"

The drowess looked even more entertained. "Two and a few decades," she said with a smile. "Not a half dozen. I'm just busier than your knights. The Underdark always has some conflict of one kind or another raging, and I was sent into most of them. When the powers that be in Menzoberranzan find a something to be useful, they will use it until it breaks. Then they discard it. Alystin keeps me from that fate, in her own way. Now, let's see what can be done about your knights."

Nendir was stunned. He hadn't realized Sabal was so young. She just didn't seem like it. He expected her to have more centuries under her belt by her skill and the way she acted. But it made some sense. Even an elf would struggle to maintain the vigor and intensity she had over that many centuries. Though age was far less of a concern for elves, sheer wear on the body took its toll. Magical healing could only do so much. Then again, Sabal had some kind of inner fire driving her on, and he was beginning to think it was more than just rage...though that did probably form a significant component.

He talked to Alystin once when Sabal was sleeping near the fire, when they were both on watch. The wizard explained that wilders were governed by emotions and they struggled to contain their passions the way any other person could. Sometimes it was crippling and sometimes it granted them the power to do what seemed impossible. She had also mentioned, in an oblique way, that Sabal could seem so intense because she had lost so much. Nendir wasn't certain what to take away from that, but his curious questions had related no more information than that. Aly was fairly guarded about specifics.

The Knights in Silver, armored and unarmored, were waiting in their training yard. The overall attitude was one of significant wariness as they looked at the armed and armored drow. Sabal ignored the audience and waited with her traditional impatience for Nendir and Camran to get their armor on. The priest had finally gained enough muscle and stamina to wear the heavier chain, while Nendir kept to his studded leather. Storunn emerged from the group of knights, looking to be in a good mood. Sabal wrinkled her nose when the dwarf's smell drifted her way. He'd had a healthy breakfast of ale, apparently, probably along with something meaty and greasy as per usual. "Ready ta go, lads and lass?" he asked as cheerfully as he could to offset Sabal's irritation.

"Yeah," Camran said a bit nervously, glancing at the audience of lounging knights. He wasn't exactly that kind of material. How could he compete? He gripped his quarterstaff more tightly and prayed to Sune that he wouldn't make a fool of himself.

"Camran, you're first," Sabal said, studying his form intently. He and Nendir were finally to the point where they could correct themselves, but she made a point of paying close attention to the less martially-inclined priest. "Feet shoulder-width apart, Camran." His footwork always needed work, which was a shame. It was arguably the most important part. Alystin had been able to teach him staff work with some success, but it came down to Sabal to actually teach him combat sense. "We'll do a quick warm up for you, then for Nendir."

Storunn tossed Sabal one of the battered, broken halves of the broom stick that they'd brought and used all the way from Gracklstugh. The drowess advanced on the priest, snapping the stick into a whipping blow that he blocked reflexively, this time with the right amount of angle so that it just rolled off. He didn't have a chance to think before the next blow, then the next one, then the next one. Camran stepped and moved, snapping his quarterstaff around like a toy to block. It was almost like a dance, one whose graceful steps he had finally learned over the course of the past few months of travel. Not perfectly, but well. Sabal was not quite as vicious as usual, judging by the fact that his fingers were all unwounded. She'd broken one or two before on multiple occasions when he didn't protect his hand right and she wasn't above bruising his knuckles. Storunn was no kinder. Today, however, Camran was in top form once he focused on just Sabal's assault rather than trying to pay attention to the crowd.

He felt more than knew someone was behind him and drove his staff backwards, forcing Storunn to leap back. The dwarf had been going in for a sneak shot. The game changed with multiple opponents as he struggled to keep them both in view at once. That strange sixth sense flooded through him and he dove into a roll forward that stung his shoulders where they hit the raw stone of the courtyard. It brought him up on his feet in front of Sabal, narrowly avoiding Nendir's blow.

His struggle against three ended when Storunn tackled him to the ground and Sabal tapped him on the forehead with the stick. "Dead," she said irritably. He thought he saw a hint a smile at the corners of her mouth and her eyes, however. She held out her hand to help him up and he accepted it without hesitation. Whatever temptation there was, Sabal kept her grip every time she offered her hand instead of letting someone fall. If she didn't like someone, she didn't offer.

"Thanks," Camran said with a smile.

Nendir lasted about as long as the priest, despite his years of training with the Knights in Silver. Sabal was demanding in other ways, valuing cunning over even skill. She had told them that it was fine if a fighter knew only a few techniques, so long as they were very good with them and knew how to make others play to their strengths. That was the key, in her opinion: forcing someone to fight on one's ground rather than their own, whether literally or metaphorically. He brushed the dirt off his body once Sabal helped him up. A few new bruises, but nothing serious.

"Now on to blind-fighting," the drowess said, amber eyes all but daring them to groan. "Do the pair of you want blindfolds or the darkness?"

"Blindfold," Nendir said. The utter, seemingly endless void that was supernatural darkness left him uncomfortable. Even Sabal couldn't see through it, though it didn't seem to bother her after years of conditioning.

Camran nodded his agreement for the exact same reason

Storunn fished out strips of dark cloth from his bag and passed them off to the pair. Both of them were perfectly capable of tying their blindfolds tightly and well. He chuckled, patting them on the shoulders. "Not yer favorite thing, aye, but ye'll get it."

"Storunn, why don't you work with Camran?" Sabal said, though it wasn't really a suggestion as much as an order. She looked over at Nendir. "Come on." She had ceased her use of insulting nicknames most of the time, at least until he did something that frustrated her.

Nendir nodded and followed her to an open space opposite from Storunn and Camran, who had already started, but before he could even tie the blindfold or raise his blade, the sight of a familiar face stopped him. "Sabal—"

She slapped him comparatively gently on the cheek with the stick. "Focus," she said sharply.

"Sabal, my father is coming," he said urgently, lowering his blade. "He's a captain in the Spellguard. His approval could really help."

Sabal dropped her hand and drummed the stick lightly against the side of her leg. "And your cunning plan?" she said dryly.

"I don't know," Nendir said. He wasn't certain that talking to an acidic, wary Sabal would be a good way to endear the drowess to his father. But on the other hand, what else was he supposed to do? Hide her away in a closet until he'd had time to soften the blow? Actually, that didn't sound half bad.

Suiadan Nendir was a bigger elf than his son with almost human-like broad shoulders and a thick waist that had not an ounce of fat contributing to its measure. His blond hair was trimmed short and he had a few scars of his own, including the empty socket of a missing eye. He looked very much like he belonged in armor, but he wore none, favoring the tunic and tabard that marked his service. He carried a quarterstaff a bit than Camran's, made of a dense and dark exotic hardwood. His face was lined and serious, looking all the more grim when he focused on Sabal. He held no love for drow after their raids into the area and he had been absent when Nendir recounted to his mother what Sabal had done for him. "Minaithelan," he said, greeting his son with a nod. "Logan told me that you traveled in questionable company. I see now that he was correct."

It wasn't a good start. Sabal bristled, but Nendir motioned for her to stay calm and she—surprisingly—listened to the best of her ability. The young ranger smiled nervously at his father. "This is Sabal A'Daragon, Father," he said. "She and her friends saved Linnan and I in the Underdark. I promise you that she is a good woman."

The faith and trust that Nendir apparently put in her left Sabal taken aback. She knew she wasn't really a good person deep down. What her companions saw mystified her. Sometimes she even wondered what it was that Aly found so attractive. She still felt a sort of smug satisfaction when she saw the face of Nendir's father twist in disapproval. Better that he dislike her, since she wasn't exactly here to please him.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Sabal said as she spotted Aly emerging from a side door. Likely she was taking a break from her studies. The wilder had conditioned her lover to stop and rest before her head ached fit to bursting or her hands cramped up. She sauntered towards the wizard, though she was keeping tabs on the conversation psionically.

"They don't mean any harm, Father," Nendir promised. He sighed a little when he saw not even a single flicker of doubt in his father's expression. "Even Sabal is laboring towards a noble goal: the end of this incursion of devils from the Nine Hells. Isn't that a worthy task? Doesn't that make her at least worthy of respect?"

"You are an ally of convenience to that woman and nothing more. Yes, she may want these devils gone. But did you ever think to ask why?" Suiadan said sternly. "Evil does not always cooperate with evil. The greatest enemies of the infernal armies are hordes of demons as much as the hosts of angels. What is the title of Lloth? Demon Queen of Spiders. You trust far too easily, my son. Do not imagine that she is your friend. Drow are deceivers. It is in their nature. It is treachery that marks their kind as much as cruelty."

"I have seen no evidence that Sabal is evil," Nendir argued, squaring his jaw. Maybe he didn't believe in Sabal's guilt simply because he didn't want to see it. But maybe, he considered, there really were redeeming qualities to the drowess. "She has yet to shed the blood of innocents. She does not rob, she does not cheat, she has stood firmly by us in every battle. I'm certain she's had many opportunities to kill me just for being an elf, but she has taken none of them. Harsh, yes, but so was her whole world. If you saw her the way we do, you would have a very different opinion."

"You are young," Suiadan said firmly. "You do not know the world as we who have walked it for far longer do. You would be well served to take my advice: do not put your faith or your trust in the drow. You can take such creatures out of the darkness, but you can never take the darkness out of them."

Nendir nodded stiffly. "I will think on it," he said with a definite shortness. Sabal was in her own way a better teacher than any of his tutors had been. She demanded excellence on the field of battle, hounding him in every lesson to be better than perfect. Any mistake could lead to the death of one of his companions.

Over with Aly, Sabal ran her fingers through her white hair and studied her disguised lover. "That man does not like us," the wilder said darkly.

"He doesn't like you, _d'anthe_. I don't know if he even cares about the rest of us," Alystin said. She wanted to wrap her arms around Sabal and murmur that everything would be fine, but that would be a lie. "He will be trouble unless Nendir can persuade him otherwise, which I imagine will be an uphill battle at best. Don't worry. You always have me."

Sabal smiled at that. "Thank you, _ussta ssin_." She heard approaching feet and looked over to see Camran and Storunn, with Linnan trailing along behind them. Nendir was headed back their way as well, looking unhappy.

"Well, it would appear we have a quorum," Alystin said wryly, taking a seat on a bench at the edge of the training grounds. The attention of the knights wandered away from the small group now that they were no longer practicing. She let her staff rest against her knee as she contemplated her companions. "We need to decide where to go from here. I've taken some time out of my studies of the amazing library here to listen to a fair amount of gossip. Lord Holt has decided not to attend the party before the Council convenes, nor the Council meeting itself. He will be safely ensconced in Waterdeep, but he is sending someone in his stead: his foster son, Elénaril."

"I can't decide if that's good news or bad news," Sabal said thoughtfully. "I would be willing to bet that Holt is the man who is actually conjuring fiends and coordinating their movements."

"There is something else, but I'm not sure everyone here is ready to hear it," Alystin said, looking over at the others. "I think Sabal and I need to be honest with all of you." She ignored the way her lover stiffened and turned wary eyes her way. "We are pursuing Lord Holt and his son not only because they are raising fiends. They stole something very, very valuable that needs to be returned to its rightful owner. A scroll. Mundane itself, but the writings on it are anything but. I'm reasonably certain it's a map."

"A map?" Linnan said curiously. "Is it the kind with treasure at the end of it?"

"Only if you consider the Celestial Realms to be treasure," Alystin said. After all her use of divination magic and research, she had come to the sinking conclusion that she and Sabal were only a piece of a much larger plan, something that reached beyond the enmity between demons and devils. Judging by the way those troubled amber eyes were looking at her, she wasn't the only one who had reached that realization.

This meant that it would not be a little betrayal in their group's future. The future of...everything...could ride in the balance.

"If devils got their hands on such a thing, they could mount an assault on the heavens," Camran said, his face white. "That vision...the Lady Firehair in peril...when did you learn this, Aly?"

"I have some dabbling in planar affairs," Alystin said, very much underselling her comfort with demons. She had grown into it over the years since her introduction into the cult of the Lady of Sacrifice. "It was brought to my attention that something very rare and valuable was taken by Asmodeus's followers. Sabal and I discussed it, naturally assuming that this was not a good omen for anyone. We decided to give chase and, well, here we are. I didn't know the nature of the object until I did a good deal of scrying and research. It wasn't easy to see. Lord Holt has been shielding it, but there were brief times when it was being moved that I could see the scroll itself."

"Aye, 'tis no good," Storunn said in agreement with Camran. Everyone seemed more focused on the immediate threat rather than what kind of planar affairs Aly had been dabbling in. It also, inadvertently, somewhat laid to rest Nendir's troubled thoughts. It was as good an explanation as any for why Sabal would join this kind of cause: the end of the Celestial Planes was certainly enough to justify intervention even by a drow.

"Well, now that we're resolved to do something, we need a plan," Sabal said impatiently. "Nendir, you're a native of Silverymoon. What do you know about Lord Holt's son?"

The elf frowned a little. "I studied swordsmanship with him. He takes poorly to criticism. Proud, certainly. And vain. He liked boasting to pretty girls, almost more than he liked chasing them. I know he married, but he's not exactly a faithful husband."

"Odd," Aly said thoughtfully. When Nendir and Camran looked at her quizzically, she elaborated, "Asmodeus's followers honor their deals scrupulously. Usually to the other person's detriment, granted. I was under the impression that surface marriages were exclusive."

Camran smiled a little. "Love is what it is. For some people, that means openness. Though everyone should understand that from the beginning, otherwise hearts are always broken."

"Interesting," Alystin said. "However, I'm willing to bet love has nothing to do with it."

"Probably," Nendir said. He leaned against a wall and crossed his arms. "He broke a lot of hearts and told a lot of stories about it too. I think he ruined a few girls, but he was so 'handsome' and so 'knightly' that he got away with it."

"Gives us a bit of an opportunity, though," Linnan said. "I mean, you could always approach him, Aly. If he likes boasting to pretty women, he could certainly tell you too much. I mean that as a compliment. Or even better if he really takes a shine to you. Might be able to snag an invite to some kind of secret devil party."

Sabal's lips were slowly pressing into a thin, displeased line. "Absolutely not," their drowess said harshly. She could feel that twisting knot of apprehension in her stomach and she didn't like it. She hadn't lived this long by ignoring that twist of intuition. It would put Alystin directly into the line of fire and she did not like that at all.

"It's her decision. She can take care of herself, Sabal," Camran said gently. The glare he received in return was a near lethal one that made him almost take a step backwards.

"It's not a bad plan," Nendir said, studying Aly. She was certainly beautiful for a human, in an almost elven way: delicate features and soft expressions matching those expressive silver eyes. Sometimes when the firelight played across her face at night, he found himself surprised that there weren't points to her ears. She was easily the type of woman that Elénaril would pay attention to. "I think he'd be very inclined to get to know you much better if you were to tempt him, Aly."

Alystin glanced over at Sabal, who had gone very quiet. Those feral amber eyes had closed and now she appeared to be very much thinking. The mage knew only one thing: a quiet before the storm meant it would be all the worse when it happened. However, they had an enemy who needed to be beaten more than anything. That would mean doing some unpleasant things and Sabal knew that. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt," the wizard said finally.

The inquisitor let out a hiss of breath and stalked off without saying a word to any of them. She stepped in one of the side doors and slammed it behind herself with an explosive bang.

"That seemed disproportionate," Nendir observed.

"It's Sabal," Aly said with a sigh. "She'll simmer down...I hope."

"So it's a plan, then? Aly goes and tries to catch his attention while the rest of us keep an eye and an ear out?" Linnan said, looking around at his remaining companions.

"Aye," Storunn said when the others nodded their agreement.

Once that was settled, Aly left the four to their practice. She wanted to go find Sabal and talk to her, but she knew that would be a fool's errand. When she was angry, Sabal tended to keep her words walled up behind the iron defenses of her will. Displays of her temper were physical, which wasn't that unusual for a drow. Sabal's were just more dangerous than average because of her psionic abilities. The wizard returned to her books, leaving Sabal to hopefully settle down for the rest of the day.

When she finally gave up on her research into the nature of the scroll, it was late at night. She snuffed out her magelight and went to the room that they were generously allowed to stay in. There was no sign of Sabal. The bed on her side was unmade, but the sheets were cold. Her armor and weapons were here, at least, which meant she would remain in the palace where she felt relatively secure. Alystin sighed softly as she set her things aside and changed for bed. It wasn't like Sabal to be so standoffish with the wizard, at least not over minor things. Apparently the wilder was taking this as a grievous offense or something of that nature. She liked to hope that Sabal was just taking the time to think. Hopefully.

Aly wasn't wrong.

Sabal paced down the many corridors of the High Palace, running her fingertips over the reliefs of leaves and flowers carved into the marble walls. She touched tapestries, feeling the threads under her hands, just for the relief of some tactile sensation that kept her anchored in her maelstrom of anger and fear. She was furious with the others for thinking it was a good idea to put Aly in harm's way and at herself for even being upset. More than that, she was terrified that something horrible might happen and she would be powerless to prevent it. It wasn't rational and she knew it. The wizard was more than capable. When it came to Alystin, however, she struggled to think with her head instead of her heart.

She recognized a presence even before it spoke: Alustriel Silverhand herself. "You seem troubled, Sabal," the human noblewoman said. She had been walking down a side hall, probably towards her own bed.

"Always," Sabal said quietly.

"Would you like to talk?" Alustriel offered with her usual kindness. Sabal had a very hard time disliking the woman, not that she was aiming to. She wanted to snap that she didn't need the human's charity, but she knew her continued living hinged on Alustriel's goodwill. Besides, even if she was a human, Lady Silverhand was a powerful woman and it did not pay to anger powerful women in Sabal's experience. She had done it enough to know that much.

"I prefer not to inflict my thoughts on anyone," Sabal said with a shrug. "They are my comfort and my refuge."

"True of most of us, I think," the noblewoman said, smiling faintly. She fell in step beside the drowess and they walked the halls towards one of many gardens together. It was an oddly companionable and peaceful silence.

Sabal was still angry, of course, and she knew her current sentiment would be nothing compared to how she would feel if something happened to Aly. But what could she do? What complaint could she raise that wouldn't be discarded out of hand? Aly was less stubborn than Sabal, but she could still dig in her heels when she felt like the wilder was being overly protective. The amber-eyed drowess sighed and combed her fingers through her hair again in an effort to soothe herself. "The surface is not what I had imagined," Sabal said finally, voicing the most benign of her thoughts.

Alustriel looked amused at that. "And what did you imagine?"

"That its inhabitants to a one hated us. That every sound, every movement was an omen of danger," Sabal said. She examined her nails for a moment. "You must understand that the drow are besieged on all sides, and so that is what we expect from the world above. But you have been...understanding. I can see in your people's eyes that they are not, but they bite their tongues. That is more than I expected."

"You are very different from the surface drow they are accustomed to," Alustriel said by way of explanation. "Forgive me for my bluntness, but you resemble what they were warned about. I would be inclined to agree with them...but I do not see you as a danger to us. To the worshippers of Asmodeus that Minaithelan described to me, certainy. I do not see you as a creature that kills for the pleasure of killing."

"I do what I must," Sabal said quietly. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"And what is commanded of you," the human noblewoman said, looking over at the drowess. "Forgive me, but you have the attitude of one who has been...an instrument of other forces for most of your life. I know you are not a cleric, but…"

"All drow serve Lloth in their own way," Sabal said, knowing she was on dangerous ground. "Some merely choose to leave after that service is performed. Do'Urden left. He is one of few, but not the only of his kind. Eilistraee's followers forsake Lloth and some flee to the surface to avoid persecution."

"Why did you leave the service of Lloth?" Alustriel asked softly. "If that is not too personal a question, that is."

"I...care for someone very much," Sabal said with an edge of discomfort to admitting it. It wasn't a lie, not when her heart belonged to Aly over Lloth. She was just uncomfortable with the sudden desire to tell someone, anyone, that particular truth. She hadn't uttered it in the Underdark, even to Aly. At least, not when the wizard was awake to hear it. Confessions of love were not in Sabal's vocabulary. Perhaps that was something she could learn from the softness of the surface dwellers...if she could convince herself that it wasn't unparalleled weakness. "A heretic."

"Ah," her host said sympathetically. "I imagine that must have put a great deal of strain on you."

Sabal stopped in the garden, the sound of snow crunching beneath her feet coming to an abrupt halt. "My faith was my life. It dictated my every breath. It held a sway over me that you cannot imagine. It defined me. And then...I had a choice. And to every drow in Menzoberranzan, I made the wrong choice. The foolish choice, the mad choice. It has not destroyed me yet, but I have every confidence that it will before it is over. I can't bring myself to regret a moment of it all the same."

"You love them," Alustriel said with a small smile. If Sabal had walked away from Lloth for love, there was some spark of good in her.

The amber-eyed drowess hesitated. "Yes, I suppose I do," she said finally.

"Do they know that?" the human noblewoman asked.

Sabal sighed. "I hope so."


	9. The Party

"You've been very quiet," Alystin said softly as she dressed. Surface fashion was a little bit strange, much more modest than the drow version...not that the wizard had been confident enough in her own looks to dress particularly daringly. The green fabric of her dress was almost rough compared to the spidersilk of her homeland, but it still fit well and followed her curves in a way that she suspected Sabal found appealing considering the way those amber eyes were watching her.

For the days leading up to the party, Sabal had been unnaturally quiet, even more reserved than before, though on occasion the wizard had glimpsed her lover in quiet conference with Lady Alustriel. Aly had struggled to get more than a few terse words out of her, which stung the wizard's feelings even though she could understand the reason behind the sudden silence. Even worse was the lack of casual contact between them even behind closed doors. Hiding it in public had become normal now, but she'd expected that Sabal would warm in private. Instead, the wilder maintained her distance as whatever storms brewing behind her amber eyes intensified. The inquisitor was still very, very unhappy with the group's decision to have Aly approach their enemy alone in the guise of interest. She hadn't said so, but she didn't really need to for the mage to know what was going on.

Nendir, Camran, Linnan, and Storunn hadn't managed to get any more out of her than Aly had. Sabal hadn't even trained with them since the plan was proposed, though Alystin had found her deep in concentration kneeling before a candle whose flame she was shaping, which meant she was at least still paying attention to her psionic abilities. Granted, Aly hadn't had a lot of time to spare between her studies and Nendir's crash course on etiquette and how to dance on the surface.

Sabal shrugged in response to the wizard's comment, watching as Aly pinned up her brown hair. After a second longer of watching, she abandoned her seat on the edge of the bed to come up to the mage from behind. She slipped her arms around Alystin's waist and pulled the wizard back against her, resting her cheek against the her lover's newly fixed hair. She closed her eyes and tried not to worry that something would happen. She didn't trust herself to say anything without begging Aly to reconsider and her pride rarely let her plead for anything. She had to just let herself believe and trust that the mage could handle whatever Asmodeus's faithful had to throw at her.

Alystin relaxed into the very much welcome touch. It felt good to have Sabal's arms around her again. It likely didn't mean she was any less angry, but it was still a gesture of reconciliation. The inquisitor wasn't likely to apologize, but she would do this much. "I'll be fine, Sabal," she promised softly. "Everyone will be right there if something goes wrong."

"I know," Sabal said quietly. It didn't reassure her.

There was a knock at the door and the wilder abruptly pulled away to get it, opening the door to reveal Camran. "Ready?" he asked. Both of his companions looked dressed appropriately. Sabal had even been convinced to abandon her armor for the event and was well-dressed in dark, well-fitted pants and leather jerkin embossed with swirling patterns over a white doublet. They were surface clothes, but Sabal could move very well in them and easily fight, which were her primary criteria for selecting apparel anywhere she felt even vaguely threatened. The surface certainly fit that category by a mile. She looked quite good for a bodyguard and almost might have passed for an aristocrat. She wasn't uncivilized by any means, but she still lacked the manner of a noble. In a strange way, Camran thought of her as too unsettlingly focused to be nobility more than anything else. It was hard to explain.

Honestly, Aly might have had similar restrictions on acceptable clothing, but as a spellcaster she didn't need to leap into the fray the way Sabal did. Granted, Sabal could just use psionics, but when people were coming at Aly with a weapon, her natural instinct was to interpose herself between them and the wizard.

"We're ready," Alystin said, confident that things would be alright, even if they didn't go according to plan. Their host was not likely to have any engagement where anyone could hurt anyone else successfully, not with so many nobles and diplomats in the same place. The worst that could happen, and it would admittedly be bad, was that their enemy would know exactly who was looking and how powerful they were.

Sabal wanted to tell Camran to take good care of Aly, when the cleric offered her lover his arm, but the very notion was insulting. "Eyes open," she reminded him pointedly before watching them go. She'd agreed to go with Nendir while Camran and Aly stayed together. The elf and she were already known companions, while Aly and Camran were less associated with them since each had spent much of their time away from the group. Storunn and Linnan would be circulating among their own crowds, hopefully gathering intelligence on more than just what nasty things the nobles were saying about each other.

It was an oddly juvenile form of nobility. Sabal had seen younger drow nobles in training do very much the same thing, but when they became adults, their behavior changed. Suddenly every slight with words could be answered by a dagger in the dark and every snub with poison. Every underhanded movement had the very real possibility of an army marching or a House falling. Many people didn't realize how incredibly polite the drow could be, probably because what most paid attention to was the sneering of priestesses towards their own children and consorts. Drow nobles did have a certain penchant for it, but they were also subtle creatures. Sabal had seen more maneuvering happen in unspoken words around smiling faces than ever happened in any overt display of power. The Revered Daughter in particular was the master of the veiled threat and the soft-spoken compliment. Knowing how to feed someone's ego was just important as knowing how to stab someone. Even Sabal survived by doing a little song and dance, though mostly for Yvonnel's benefit. If she was rude to a priestess, the Revered Daughter had to hear about it, and that meant some form of creative punishment for Sabal.

 _Pick your battles,_ Xullae had once advised her. Sabal did her best only to pick battles she could win these days. It was, in her opinion, a sign of maturity. This was just an exception to her normal rule, not that she had exactly chosen to undertake it. Aly going meant that she would go and it was as simple as that.

"She'll be fine," Nendir said when Sabal turned to look at him. They were going to wait for a few minutes before following, just so the group didn't go in together. Storunn and Linnan were already out there. The elf and drow would be the final part of the party to arrive.

"I know," Sabal said tersely, her body oddly relaxed for her tone. But this was how she walked into her audiences with Matrons and priestesses: always calm, always relaxed, always ready. Anything could happen and that meant a clear mind. She forced her anxiety for Aly's safety down and cleared her head. She needed to pay attention now that she was walking out onto the webs of spiders. Weak as surface dwellers were, she was under no illusion that they were harmless. The idea of sitting back and watching was not an appealing one, but Sabal had become accustomed to less than appealing commands in her duties for the Church.

The first half of the party was uneventful for Alystin. Camran sort of orbited her, but left her alone to chat with other mages assembled. She knew how to blend with nobility, though now she was making her presence a bit more known than she would have in the Underdark, where she did her best to avoid notice. She had observed Nede long enough, though, to know how to play at social butterfly. It helped that she was good-looking even in her disguise and being a guest of Lady Alustriel herself drew the curiosity of others. Then, she finally sighted him on the approach. Elénaril was easily recognizable from her vision through the bebilith's eyes. She felt a residual anger from the demon tighten her throat for a moment, but then it was gone. He was definitely handsome in a human kind of way, traces of elven heritage occasionally visible in the very slight points of his ears and the angles of his face. His fair hair was immaculately combed and cut short. He was clean-shaving as if to better show off a strong chin. Bright green eyes focused on Alystin and he smiled genuinely. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

"As long as you promise to be gentle with me. I'm new to dancing," Alystin said with a small smile, placing her hand in his. The butterflies in her stomach had nothing to do with his charm and everything to do with her anxiety.

"I will be whatever you want me to be to you, my lady," Elénaril promised, leading her out onto the dance floor. "I heard you came here with a priest. You must have found that terribly tedious."

"He does lack a certain sophistication of conversation," Aly said pleasantly. She thanked all the surface gods she could think of—mostly Sune, since Camran was her main experience with the pantheon—that Nendir was such a good teacher. She could actually follow the steps without embarrassing herself. She also noted that her dance partner was as close to her as he could be without invading her space. He seemed very attentive to her reactions, something she hadn't expected from a surface dweller. Then again, her traveling companions weren't exactly good examples. She wouldn't call any of them ladies' men.

"A flaw you do not share," the half elf said, guiding her through a turn with hands on her waist, completely oblivious to the eyes of the rest of the group. "Very few ladies of the court have such interesting depth. I've heard stories throughout the night. I must admit that I'm no mage myself, but I have an active interest in the arcane because of my father. I understand that you yourself are a mage of considerable power."

"Flattery suits you," Aly said with a smile. "But I do like to think so. Lady Alustriel has been kind enough to allow me to explore the many libraries of Silverymoon."

"What schools of magic do you prefer?"

"Originally, I was trained as a battlemage, but my interests have developed beyond the evocation school. Conjuration has proven extremely interesting," Alystin said. "I enjoy working with planar creatures."

"Celestials, I assume. Beauty attracts beauty," Elénaril said with his most winning smile.

The wizard laughed. "I'm sorry to disappoint. My affinities are more...occult," she said, keeping it vague so that he could draw from it what he willed. It clearly piqued his interest.

"And you remain a woman of mystery," he said. "Shall we have some wine and discuss things further? I don't believe I've seen you at any of these gatherings before."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Alystin said, trusting that the others were keeping an eye on them still. She'd caught a glimpse of Linnan and Storunn out of the corner of her eye, but she hadn't seen Sabal or Nendir. Camran was probably at the center of that giggling group of young ladies. Being a priest of Sune had its benefits, and one of those was a reputation for a sort of chivalric romance—which wasn't far removed from the truth of their priest. He was certainly a gentleman at his heart. "And I don't usually frequent these kinds of things, I'm afraid. My studies occupy much of my time." That wasn't a lie, even at home. She appeared at noble events generally only when her presence was ordered. A woman in her position always had something important that needed to be done. Sabal was the only thing that could convince her to abandon that willingly.

"Shame on you, depriving society of your loveliness," Elénaril said with a gentle chiding, offering his arm and escorting her over to find a glass of wine. It was sweeter than the lichen wines of her home and altogether more dangerous because of that. It would be easy to drink too much, if the alcohol content was similar. Aly made a mental note to be wary.

Across the room, Sabal was thankfully too distracted to be as protective as her instincts would have screamed at her to be if she'd seen what was going on. There were dozens of nobles who wanted to gawk at the strangeness that was a drow in polite company, not murdering or anything. Sabal's scars made her all the more intimidating, but there was a strange fascination that came with danger, like watching a caged panther. And to her credit, Sabal just smiled and nodded through the assault of questions that were insulting to various degrees even though she was absolutely desperate for an escape or a redress. More than a few people had escaped unscathed after comments that normally would have provoked a violent rebuke. Sabal didn't so much as twitch her hand up in response or marshal psionic power, but she was certainly thinking about it.

It fell to Nendir to keep an eye on Aly. The ranger stayed nearby, though he couldn't hear the conversation going on. The wizard looked thoroughly charmed, which did worry him a little, and Elénaril was careful to make certain her glass remained full. All the same, the two seemed to be getting along famously. He felt his anxiety rise a little when he saw them headed towards one of the balconies. It wasn't that he didn't trust Aly, but he didn't like it. It was time to find Sabal. He wedged his way through the group of people around the drowess, his mere presence drawing her attention.

 _What is it?_ she asked in his thoughts.

"Our friend wanted to talk to you out on the balcony. Privately," he said as carefully as he could while still conveying urgency.

"Apologies," Sabal murmured, breaking away from the crowd and following close on Nendir's heels. "You let her out of your sight?"

"To come find you," Nendir said. "Would you have preferred I keep you out of the loop?"

Sabal didn't have a good answer for that, so she reached out psionically. Alystin's familiar mind was there and unharmed, though it was indistinct. She'd been drinking and so her thoughts were blurring together. _Are you alright?_

 _Of course I am, Sabal,_ the wizard answered, her tone dismissive of the wilder's worry. She felt the sting a moment after she'd thought it, but Sabal withdrew from her mind so quickly she didn't have time to say anything else. She and Camran stepped out onto the balcony just in time to see Elénaril kiss their wizard. It wasn't much more than a brush of lips against lips. Alystin managed not to go rigid or pull away sharply, probably because it wasn't something deeper or firmer.

"Until we next meet, my lady," the half elf murmured at the sound of approaching feet. "It would sound as though we have a pair of lovebirds who'd like this balcony." He looked over and froze when he saw Sabal standing there.

If looks could kill, the worshipper of Asmodeus would have been at the bottom of the Nine Hells. But as feral as those amber eyes were, her features arranged themselves into a pleasant smile. "Are we intruding?" she asked pleasantly, ignoring the pleadingly apologetic look that Alystin was giving her.

'If I said yes, would it stop you, drow?" Elénaril asked, his tone and expression extremely cautious. Clearly he saw the dark elf for the threat she was.

"It might," Sabal said. "I just needed some fresh air and my friend here pointed out the balcony."

"Then I will leave you to it," the half elf said. He bowed to Alystin. "If you should ever find yourself in Waterdeep, my lady, I must insist that you pay me a visit. And if you'd like to speak to me before that, I am staying at my father's estate here in Silverymoon in his absence. Until then."

"Of course," Aly forced herself to say. She was actually surprised when the half elf noble made it through the doorway without Sabal tearing into his mind and leaving him a miserable mess on the floor. "Sabalー"

"Well, I think I've had about all of this party I can take," Sabal said, her tone brittle as glass. Nendir was surprised he couldn't see his breath in the frigidness of the air around Sabal. It seemed noticeably colder on the balcony in a way that had nothing to do with the night air. "We have what we needed, don't we?"

"Seems like it," Nendir said. Apparently the half elf had hit the last, raw nerve Sabal had left after this past week. He could imagine the explosion coming even though he wasn't psionic. It would probably be the largest one he'd ever seen from her, possibly the largest one he'd ever seen. He wasn't certain why Sabal was this furious, but he felt legitimately bad. She'd been forced to suffer through the antagonizing prying of nobles into every aspect of her life in the name of curiosity, she'd been forced to let her charge tangle with Asmodeus's followers alone, and now she was even more upset.

"I'm ready to report back," Aly said. She wasn't certain what was going to happen once they were behind closed doors again. She couldn't imagine Sabal _not_ going off.

"Meet up with the others outside the great hall," Sabal said. Her head felt like it was going to explode. "We'll share what we learned in an hour or so." She turned and headed back into the hall.

"Where are you off to?" Nendir said.

"I need some air. Alone," Sabal said shortly before vanishing into the crowd. She managed to free herself of any potential nobles and escape out into one of the gardens, the snow and frozen grass crunching underneath her feet. It was an ugly part of her nature, of the nature of all drow, this possessive, jealous anger burning under her skin. She didn't want Aly to have to put up with itーthat would have been selfish at best. She avoided the statues in Alustriel's gardens lest she accidentally break something. She needed an outlet, preferably something to fight. What she wouldn't have given for an ambush or an assassin. She knelt down in front of a stone bench and rested her forehead against the edge. The hammering in her temples was slowly receding as she found her control again. _Think of dark. Think of cold._ Goddess, but she hated the surface and everything on it right now. She even prayed to the Spider Queen for the subtlety of a proper hunter.

Mercifully, she was not approached. Even Alustriel, who normally seemed to cross her path for conversation when she was at her worst, was preoccupied by the party. It was for the best. The agony in her head faded to a dull ache after a while, but it was still very much there. Sabal stood up and took a deep breath before going to meet up with the others.

Her companions had stayed in the palace proper, meeting up in the library since it was only a very short ways from the room she and Alystin shared. Storunn stroked his beard thoughtfully, the wire-like hair combed just for the occasion of the party. He wasn't going to comment on the drowess's temper, because he hadn't been there to see her reaction to their foe. "So ye've got an invitation, at least," Storunn said.

"I can't advise you go to his estate here in Silverymoon," Nendir said seriously. "Even with Lady Alustriel's blessing, you would be at his mercy and we could be arrested for trespassing on his property. We would be better served going to Waterdeep."

"Depends on Sabal," Linnan said with a shrug. He was watching Aly, who had been fairly quiet about everything besides her exact rendition of what she and Elénaril had spoken of. The wizard's memory was precise enough that she could repeat half of what he said verbatim, though most of it was just honey intended to trap her. Currently, their mage was sitting pensively near the window, picking at a loose thread on the cushion. The halfling was convinced she was in distress, but he didn't think she'd appreciate it if he drew attention to it. "Though I'd bet money she'll see it like Nendir does."

"Then we leave for Waterdeep," Camran said. He looked over when he heard the door open and watched Sabal advance in. Their drowess still looked furious, but it was contained. "Sabal, we have an invitation to Lord Holt's home and to where Elénaril is staying here in Silverymoon. Thoughts?"

"I'll think about it," Sabal said, her tone sharp enough to cut. "Aly, we need to talk."

No one thought that had a good sound to it, but Alystin responded with grace, "Of course." She had been nervously anticipating some kind of conflict. Sabal had shown incredible restraint so far, well in keeping with the lessons of discipline that had been pressed on her. The wizard flashed the others a brief smile and headed out of the library and back towards the room she shared with Sabal. She could barely hear the wilder stalk after her. Apparently her lover was falling back into the habits of a hunter, something that happened when she was sufficiently angered.

"One of us should go, to make sure Aly's okay," Nendir said quietly after a few moments. "I know it'll just make her more angry, but she's already being ridiculous. What is her problem?"

An answer sprang to Camran's tongue, but he bit it back. _Jealous_ , the priest of Sune thought. Sabal's whole world revolved around Aly. Maybe she didn't like the idea that it might not be the same for the wizard. He wasn't certain what his own rationale behind the conclusion was. It was just a feeling more than anything else. "I'll go," he said. "She'll bite any of your heads off. She expects this kind of thing from me."

"Luck be with ye, lad," Storunn said. "Or yer goddess."

Down the hall, Aly slipped into their room and turned around once she was a handful of paces in. "Sabal, I know you're upset," she said gently. "He isn't—"

 _Who holds your heart?_ Sabal said in her thoughts, neatly cutting her off. She stepped into Aly's space, catching her lover's hands and pinning them to the wall neatly. Those familiar amber eyes were studying her intently.

"You know you do," Alystin said, relaxing a little. She knew this meant that Sabal was still upset, but not with her. The wilder never touched her when they were fighting, tending to treat the wizard as something fragile. Maybe she was in the face of overwhelming psionic power. Aly certainly knew that while she had pursued physical fights with Sabal in the past when she was unhappy—drow tempers tended to be violent and her own had contained a fireball or two—doing so never actually helped the situation and so she'd abandoned the tactic. "Yours."

"I like the way that sounds," Sabal said before capturing Aly's lips in a kiss that lingered, feeding a slow burn of desire. Being with the wizard like this was the important thing. She had Aly in a way no one else did. She only reluctantly parted her lips from her lover's to breathe. Those amber eyes seemed to gleam. "The things I'm going to do to you..."

"And what things would those be, _d'anthe_?" Alystin said teasingly even as she felt her body respond acutely to even the suggestion of Sabal's attentions.

Tantalizing fragments of scenes flashed across her vision rather than a verbal response from the wilder, who had started laying a line of kisses from the corner of Alystin's mouth down her jaw and neck. The wizard let out a small delighted sound that quickly turned into a soft moan of approval. The amber-eyed drowess released the slender wrists she'd still been holding, allowing Aly to wind her soft hands in Sabal's white hair. _Say it again,_ the wilder's voice whispered in her lover's thoughts.

"I'm yours, all yours," Aly said obligingly, closing her eyes and tilting her head to allow the inquisitor better access to her neck. Any other drow female might hesitate to make such a proclamation, but Aly knew that Sabal would never do anything to hurt her. Goddess knew there had been plenty of opportunities for that over the years and not one had been taken. This was safe, and more than that, it would be incredibly pleasureable if Sabal had anything to say about it. "Never stop."

Sabal kissed the wizard's lips again. She loved hearing that and loved seeing it was true even more. Nimble, dark fingers started deftly undoing Alystin's bodice laces. If either of them had been less caught up in the other, they might have noticed that a door had opened a minute ago and Camran poked his head in.

The priest was _not_ expecting to see that. Certainly, he'd acknowledged that Sabal was possibly jealous, but he hadn't entertained the notion that she and their wizard were lovers. Camran turned red and took a step backwards, ever so gently closing the door to give them their privacy without alerting them to his presence. A whole heap of things made a lot more sense now, though, particularly the things she'd said about love—things a drow should have had no inkling of. _What you call love is not a thing to be found or lost. It is a sacrifice one makes, which cannot be erased._

Camran wondered how much would Sabal have had to sacrifice if she was in love with a human. The truth was that he was underselling it, even, but only because he didn't know what the problem actually was: that Aly was a heretic—even though at the moment she was an acceptable one—not a human. And no wonder she had been so protective, so adamant that Aly never be without reinforcements. Camran wasn't sure he could have ever brought himself to let a lover do something so dangerous without panicking himself. What Nendir had called disproportionate now seemed far more reasonable.

Now how in all nine hells was he going to tell them that he knew? Should he even say so? He mulled that over as he walked back to the others. "They're working it out," he reported, knowing that neither of them would appreciate it if everyone knew. Clearly this was something they were at least trying to keep to themselves. "Didn't need to step in."

"What was Sabal's problem?" Nendir asked. All of them looked a little relieved. Aly and Sabal not getting along made everyone in the group incredibly uncomfortable, though no one would be able to point to why except Camran now.

"Just insult heaped on insult. Something about feeling like an animal in a zoo," Camran lied. He didn't know precisely what the dynamic was, but he knew he didn't want to discuss it with them. He'd broach it to Sabal and Alystin in the morning...or maybe just the wizard, come to think of it. He wasn't sure he wanted to tangle with Sabal if the message hadn't been given to her in just the right way.

Thankfully, his answer seemed to satisfy everyone and the group parted for the night.

* * *

The next morning dawned uneasily for Camran. He had spent most of the night awake and pondering over his options. He didn't want to tell the others, at least not yet, but he wasn't certain he should speak to Sabal privately. The priest didn't want to believe that the drowess would really kill him, but she was probably capable of a great many things he didn't want to believe she might do. The human left his room where Storunn was snoring away and headed for the suite that Sabal and Aly were sharing. If he could speak to both of them at once, that would be good. Perhaps even better would be catching Aly alone. The wizard could at least coach him in how to break the news to Sabal.

He rapped softly on the door. He didn't want to wake them up if they were still asleep. The door opened to reveal Aly, who was more undressed than dressed. She had just pulled on the slip she'd been wearing under her dress last night. It was white spidersilk that she'd brought with her, the fabric much softer than that green cloth. Camran blushed a little. That was more décolletage and leg than he'd been expecting to see, but the wizard didn't seem particularly embarrassed to be seen in what was essentially underwear on the surface. _She has spent a lot of time with the drow,_ he reasoned. "Good morning," he said, averting his eyes. Sabal slapping him around for oggling Aly did seem like something the drowess would readily do.

"Sabal's still asleep, if you're aiming to find her for training," Aly said, stepping back to let him in. Through the doorway to the bedroom, Camran could see the drowess sleeping soundly. It was surprising to see her so peaceful. On the road, Sabal's rest usually seemed superficial, like she wasn't really sleeping deeply or well. He'd seen her toss and turn more nights than not. But in the soft, golden light of the morning here in Silverymoon, the drowess actually looked relaxed and even content. Maybe this place was exactly what she'd needed, no matter how briefly.

"I don't want to wake her up," Camran said. He hesitated and then rubbed the back of his neck. "Aly...I thought you should know...I know about you and Sabal."

The wizard stiffened and he saw her expression switch from a comfortable friendliness to extreme wariness. "How?"

"Last night, when Sabal left to talk to you, we all agreed that someone should go and make certain everything was okay," he said softly, confident that she would be able to infer the rest. He didn't want to have to admit that he'd stood there gaping for a full minute.

Alystin seemed to be processing that as she sat down silently at the windowsill where her spellbook was waiting beside borrowed scrolls and tomes. "Who else knows?" she said finally, looking up at him.

"No one, but..." Camran said. "Aly, it's not going to hurt for people to know. This isn't the Underdark."

"So people never strike at each other through lovers here on the surface?" Alystin said. There was a sharpness to her voice that he hadn't heard before. "People never cripple and maim what others hold dearest out of vengeance or spite or hate? People never destroy happiness where it manages to find a home?"

"They do," the priest of Sune acknowledged reluctantly. "But the infrequent cruelties of others are no reason to keep something so wonderful hidden from the world."

"I'd say it's actually a fairly sound reason," Alystin said, frowning. "And I'd argue that it's a little less infrequent than you'd like to believe, Camran."

"So you never want to be open about it?" Camran asked. He knew that Aly sincerely believed what she'd said so far—that much was apparent—and it saddened him. Life in the Underdark had clearly not been kind.

"Of course I do," Alystin said, expression softening as she glanced back towards Sabal. She was checking to make certain that they hadn't woken the wilder. Those amber eyes were still closed and her breathing looked even. "Camran, I would give up almost anything to be able to kiss Sabal in public, or hold her hand, or touch her hair. Believe me when I say this is not what I want. But it is how things have to be if we're going to survive this." She'd sold her soul for Sabal, however unwisely. It came as no surprise that they had to hide things on the surface, but that didn't make it a desirable situation. "I wish I could live in the world you do, Camran, I really do. But I can't."

"You don't have to hide it from us," Camran said, his earnest face as guileless as ever. "Don't you trust us?"

Alystin looked uncomfortable, more because she was realizing that she did trust than that she didn't. These were people who she had no right to even talk to, not with who she paid homage to. Sabal was even less inclined to coexist, as Lloth had quite clearly made it open season on surface dwellers whereas the Lady of Sacrifice seemed more ambivalent. "It's not about trust," she said finally. Then she heaved a sigh. "I'll talk to Sabal. Don't tell anyone, Camran. If she thinks it's safe, then we'll tell everyone else. Alright?"

"Alright," Camran said. He offered the wizard a reassuring smile. "We're your friends, Aly. I know Sabal doesn't know what the word means, but I hope you do."

"I do," she said with a small nod. "I'm just learning the practical application still."

He cleared his throat a little. "So…did you and Sabal decide what the plan is from here or…?"

Alystin shook her head. "For some mystical reason, it didn't come up," she said, smiling despite herself. She was feeling wonderful this morning aside from the little hiccup with Camran, albeit a little sore in places. Her lover was as attentive as ever and had spent most of the night proving a definite point. "I'll ask her about it when she wakes up. But before we change the subjects from affections, what about you, Sir Camran?"

"What?" he said, going a little red.

"I saw you chatting with quite a few noble ladies over the course of the evening. Any sparks fly?" Aly asked, returning to her impish good humor. The anxiety over knowing that someone knew was still very much present, but she was a pretty good actress after centuries of being a drow.

The redness intensified. "I had a good time," he said defensively. "Anyway, none of them were interested in me that way, though Maev Halloran forgot her handkerchief. I meant to find Logan and give it to him to give to her, but—"

Alystin laughed. "Camran, are you sure you're a priest of Sune?" she teased gently. "I would bet coin that she wanted an excuse to talk to you today. Was she the pretty brunette who kept giggling at you?"

Camran looked hopeful and embarrassed at the same time. "Yes. You really think so?"

"That she wants to talk to you? Yes. I imagine she didn't say so with her brother looming over her shoulder so protectively. I don't think Logan's going to forgive you for extorting him to protect Sabal," Aly said with amusement. though she added, "Thank you again for that, by the way."

"She would have done it for me," Camran said with a shrug. He was confident that despite all her growling and grumbling, Sabal would protect him if she could.

"Indeed. And I think I know of a way to repay you," Alystin said thoughtfully, looking back towards her sleeping lover. "Logan loathes Sabal. I guarantee you that he would pay her more mind than you if she were to make herself a nuisance. With Lady Alustriel's understanding, of course. We can afford to stay in Silverymoon a little longer. I'm researching some additional magical defenses against the powers of fiends and Sabal won't mind a soft bed and a bath for a few extra days. I can finish my studies, she can prepare, and you can woo. It's a perfect plan."

Camran went completely red. "Aly…"

She beamed. "So it's settled, then."


	10. Saying Little Things

"How did you win Aly's affections?" Camran asked, leaning against the balcony railing next to Sabal. They were high above Silverymoon in one of the palace towers, presented with a beautiful view.

"I don't know," Sabal said as she looked out over the emerald, white, and blue that was the city. Silverymoon was beginning to grow on her, though she would never admit it. There was something calming about the place, which made her immediately suspicious, but so far nothing really unpleasant had happened short of Elénaril's advances on Aly. Logan had proved annoying and sometimes she saw Nendir's father watching her with a scrutinizing eye, but those were minor irritations. "What I do know is that she speaks of it better than I do. You should be asking her for advice."

"She suggested you," Camran said. "You talked about love when we first came here."

"Drow are not good advice when it comes to lovers. It is about power first and foremost in Menzoberranzan, and I imagine that is true as well of other drow cities. I am guessing that on the surface, the severed head of the enemy of the object of your affections is not an appropriate gift," Sabal said dryly.

The young man looked horrified. "Please tell me that isn't how you—" he started.

Sabal laughed. "Aly is not that kind of woman. I'm certain she wouldn't object too strenuously about me killing certain people in the Underdark, but I've never given her a severed head. I don't know why we are so attached to each other. Objectively, it's incredibly foolish sentiment that puts us in more danger than any rational people should subject themselves to. We were friends for a long time before that. I used to think of her as _my_ mage. Well, I still do. You don't let people break things that are yours if you are drow. Then I found out I missed her and the rest fell into place when I told her that she would always have me. Things have been up and down since then, but we endure. She knows me better than anyone. I hope I am not wrong when I say the same."

Camran studied Sabal's face. It was impassive, without a real hint of expression, but he believed what she'd said was genuine. Their wilder was surprisingly devoted to Aly, or maybe not surprisingly any more. He didn't associate drow with love, but here it was. "She loves you, you know," he said. "Can't believe I didn't see it before, with the way she looks at you."

Sabal shrugged a little and then changed the subject. "Before I distract Logan for you, I want to speak to Lady Alustriel. Can your romantic rendezvous wait until then?"

Camran was no expert on drow, but he had a sneaking feeling that this one wasn't comfortable with the idea of being loved or maybe the idea of love at all. He wasn't prepared to drop the matter quite yet. "Sabal, you do know she loves you, don't you?" Camran said.

"I'm a good lover, Camran," Sabal said dismissively, starting towards Lady Alustriel's study. "That's all. Now wait here. If someone tries to interrupt our conversation, like Elénaril for example, divert them." She moved at a brisk walk that dared someone to try and stop her. Fortunately, no one did.

"Is it so hard to believe Aly might feel that way?" the priest of Sune asked, following her. He would have reached out to grab her arm if he didn't think she might hurt him. "From everything I've seen, you're the most important thing in her world, over even magic. Why is this so hard for you?"

Sabal rounded on him, amber eyes narrowed. "Because I know what I am," Sabal said. "I was not made to love or be loved, Camran. Aly is…" The drowess took a deep breath. "Aly is like the sun. She illuminates the world with knowledge and beauty and even kindness. Do you know how rare that is in the Underdark? In the world? I am a creature of shadow. I will always be one. Light does not love the dark."

"But they do make each other complete," Camran said. He frowned at her. "You told me love was a sacrifice. Do you really think Aly hasn't given up things willingly for you? If you don't know better, you're every bit as delusional and self-absorbed as the drow I heard of in the Underdark."

Sabal looked like she wanted to tear into him for the last part, but she stopped herself. Aly had sold her soul to obtain the wilder's freedom. Sabal knew it, though Alystin had never come out and said it directly. That was more of a sacrifice than she herself could make. Her soul was not her own to give. "I do not appreciate the scrutiny," she said flatly instead of giving him a proper retort.

That was enough to convince Camran that the conversation was at an end. The rest of the walk to Alustriel's study was deathly quiet.

Sabal rapped her knuckles on the door and waited for the called, "Enter!" to go in. Camran obediently waited outside the door, unwilling to push Sabal any further. Her tolerance for him was particularly thin at the moment.

The silver-haired woman was busy at her desk in much the same way Aly was occupied at House Druu'giir, clearly surfacing from a few hours of intense arcane study. She offered Sabal the same warm smile she always had for the drowess. "Sabal, what can I do for you?"

"It's about Lord Holt," Sabal said after she'd closed the door carefully behind herself. She focused her mind on the present, ignoring Camran's needling commentary for the moment. She could put him through the wringer for it later—her memory was long and he would be at her mercy in training at some point in the near future. It was probably petty, but Sabal wasn't above inventing punishments for him. "We believe he is intimately involved with our fiend problem."

Alustriel nodded contemplatively as she closed her spellbook. "An interesting perspective," she said carefully, studying the drowess. "I like to believe that I'm a fair woman, Sabal. That requires that I act on evidence, not merely supposition. What can you tell me that implicates him?"

Sabal bit the inside of her cheek. Underdark testimony likely wouldn't be acceptable on the surface, and furthermore, Durna Thuldark would probably not be keen on appearing in one of these surface 'courts' Nendir had spoken of. She wasn't certain without speaking to him first that Drustan Wheelan would be willing to reveal Holt's spell component purchases to anyone other than herself, as he would likely be punished for selling reagents for the darkest kinds of magic. Underdark justice was _so_ much easier than surface justice. She wasn't even certain why she was telling Alustriel other than the fact that she didn't want to upset the balance of power in the Silver Marches by just killing him without informing her. The only reason she cared about that was that drow notion of favors: Alustriel had been hospitable without asking for anything in return, which meant that Sabal owed her. Sabal was not a fan of owing powerful people, so she was inclined to pay her debt as quickly as possible, even if that meant showing an unusual level of consideration to a surfacer.

Alustriel was waiting patiently for her answer, ill-inclined to push unnecessarily.

"There is a woman, a laird in Gracklstugh, named Durna Thuldark," Sabal said, speaking with an equal level of care. "She is also a trader, and one of her merchants on the surface has been selling…questionable spell components to Lord Holt that are used in the summoning and binding of fiends as well as other dark magics."

"Gracklstugh is a duergar city, correct? The seat of their kingdom?"

"Yes," Sabal confirmed reluctantly. She could tell where this was going.

"You understand why I am maintaining a healthy level of skepticism, then," Alustriel said patiently. "This man on the surface, who is he?"

Sabal's amber eyes were guarded. "I doubt you would be kind to someone complicit in this affair. He has played his part," she said even though she didn't really care what happened to Drustan, as she didn't even know the man and he was Durna's ally—not hers—anyway.

The fundamental problem was that her most solid proof of Lord Holt's involvement was Durna and the memory of the imp that she'd ripped out. She couldn't exactly just reach into Alustriel's mind and play the psionic echo for her as a vision. Powerful people did not like strangers in her their minds, in her experience. Yvonnel was a rare exception, but only because she had the training to keep parts of her mind walled off from even practiced intruders. She could allow Sabal in to share a memory while keeping her own secrets subtly hidden.

"Sabal, I need proof and from a reliable source," the human noblewoman said. "This is not Menzoberranzan, where it is allowable—even encouraged—to go kill someone based on supposition and personal animosity. If what you say about Lord Holt is true, and I do have my own reservations about the man, then he needs to be brought to trial in a court. There is a proper way to do this."

"And while he is in trial, who is curtailing the spread of his influence? Who is stopping him from ordering subordinates to carry out what he cannot?" Sabal said, doing her best to keep the heat out of her voice. She was used to a relatively cautious superior whose answer was not "no", but instead "no one can know". Alustriel didn't seem to understand that bloody efficiency was far preferable to the dithering and hand-wringing she'd heard of from Nendir. In the Underdark, there were not trials. There was just judgment, and nowhere was that truer than with the Yath'Abban. One did not argue with the will of the Goddess. Reasonable or, frequently, not, Lloth's dictates were final. "He will have no trouble finding people to speak very prettily for him."

"Find me evidence, Sabal, and I will make certain he has nowhere to run," Alustriel said. Her voice would have been sterner, but she could see the stubbornness in the drowess starting to rear its head. She softened her tone appropriately. "I will help you, but you can't just go charging into his home in Waterdeep and kill him. If you do, there will be no protection, and I can guarantee you that the Masked Lords of Waterdeep are not as understanding as I am."

Sabal's jaw tightened. "The more time he has, the more damage he can do."

"This is going to take time either way. If what you say is true, there will be a whole network of people to unearth. You'll need the help, Sabal," Alustriel said patiently. "Think of it as reconnaissance. You want to know your enemy before you fight him, yes? Just tell me what you learn and I should be able to assist you, provided things are as you say."

Every instinct in the drowess's body was screaming for her to go find the man and kill him as viciously and secretly as possible, but it would be no secret now if Holt suddenly died. Granted, with Aly's help she could probably make it to the Underdark before Alustriel could find her, but maybe that wasn't worth it. Alustriel could be a powerful ally now and potentially in future, so long as her association with Lloth remained largely unknown. Did she really want to make a powerful enemy by burning the tenuous bridge she'd built with her host?

Sabal was beginning to see the danger of the surface: it made simple things complicated and conflicted.

She asked herself a relatively simple question that often had a very complicated answer to it: _What would Xullae do?_

 _Pick your battles,_ her mentor had told her. Was this one worth fighting? Was it winnable?

Alustriel knew she'd won when Sabal's squared shoulders lowered ever so slightly. "Fine," Sabal said as graciously as she could manage, which wasn't very. She sounded very much as though she was going against her own better judgment. "But I will not vouch for his safety."

"I didn't expect you to," Alustriel said. "I'm certain I can get Alystin to do that."

Sabal glared and the noblewoman laughed softly in good humor. The gentle amusement took the edge away from Sabal's irritation. "You're as bad as Camran," she said snappishly all the same. Granted, her interaction with Alustriel was never as combative as that between her and Camran. The priest of Sune didn't know when to leave things well enough alone.

"He only pesters you because he wants to help," Alustriel said gently.

"If I needed help, I would ask for it," Sabal said, her irritation still as clear as daylight.

"Would you?" the human countered. "Sabal, I have known you for a very short time, particularly in the measures of the drow, but even I know that you pride yourself immensely on your independence."

Sabal considered that before speaking, examining herself with a scrutiny very few people could prompt. It was true. Life in Menzoberranzan had taught her to do everything possible on her own, without admitting weakness or a need for assistance. Aly was gradually teaching her that it was acceptable to ask for things, but it was a difficult lesson for a child of the House of Abandonment. Besides, that lesson extended to Aly and Aly only. "Everything he has said and done has lead me to believe that Camran is a child," she said finally. "I do not look to children for advice."

"And yet they can teach a surprising amount, particularly about things like gentleness and openness," Alustriel said. "Someday you might find such things useful, particularly if you are going to keep loving someone."

"We'll see," Sabal said. Even if Alustriel did have a point, which the drowess refused to admit even inwardly, she was not going to give Camran the satisfaction of vindication. "That was everything, Lady Alustriel."

"I appreciate the fact that you came and spoke with me," Alustriel said. "How are you finding the surface? I didn't have a chance to talk to you last night."

"Infuriatingly invasive," Sabal answered drily, thinking of Camran as much as the comments she had been forced to endure at the party.

Alustriel laughed again.

That reminded her of the secondary mission she'd been given by her altogether too eager lover. She was tempted to just pretend Alustriel had said no and dash Camran's hopes, but that would probably end up with her exiled from the bed if Aly found out. "I do need your consent for something else," Sabal said reluctantly. "I need to incapacitate Logan Halloran. I won't kill him."

The noblewoman raised an eyebrow. "Sabal…"

"It's for a good cause," the drowess said defensively. "And it was Aly's idea."

"Perhaps you had better tell me the full story."

* * *

"I can't believe she put him through a window," Linnan said with a grin, shaking his head a little bit. "Good thing she didn't hurt more than his ego and his rear end. Must be getting soft on the surface."

"I can hear you," Sabal snapped, rounding on the halfling and his elven friend. "Call me soft again and I will put my fist through your face."

"Sabal," Aly said warningly without looking up from her book. They were together out in a little private corner of the gardens, just out of earshot of Camran and his pretty new friend. She was pleased that Sabal had carried out her end of the bargain, but the drowess had seemed unusually cross even after her 'friendly' training bout with Logan.

Sabal's lip curled and her glare intensified, but she didn't reiterate the threat or move to act on it.

"So when do we leave for Waterdeep?" Nendir asked to smooth things over, forcing himself not to laugh at the interaction. He didn't know why or how Aly had such a hold over Sabal, but it could be highly entertaining sometimes.

"Oh, a few days," Aly said, turning a page with a little flick. She'd found a particularly engrossing tome on fiends and obtained permission to remove it from the library temporarily. "I'm still crafting a solution to the fire abilities of devils. It would be more helpful if I could actually summon an imp or something to experiment on."

"Aly…" Nendir started to say.

She looked up from her book. "Yes, I'm well aware it's unwise," she said with amusement. "That's why I haven't done it."

The elf wanted to point out that it was probably unethical as well, but he couldn't really figure out a way to express that to their wizard. Experimenting on a devil seemed cruel, but then again, they were evil and it was for a good cause. It was conflicting for Nendir. He looked over at Storunn, who was inspecting his chainmail for rust spots. "I'm going to go train," he said. "Storunn?"

"Right behind ye, lad," the dwarf said, standing up.

"I'll go too," Linnan said quickly. He didn't want to be left alone with a sulking Sabal.

The three scurried off, leaving Sabal and Aly alone. The wizard looked over and raised an eyebrow. "You know, if you wanted time alone with me, you could have just asked," Alystin said with amusement.

"Possibly," Sabal acknowledged. She knelt down in front of the wizard, finding one of Aly's hands with both of hers. She looked up into confused grey eyes, her own amber eyes unreadable even to her lover. "I talked to Camran."

"Is that so?" Alystin said, feeling her breath catch in her throat a little bit when the wilder pressed a kiss to her palm. There was a thrill that came with the danger of being affectionate somewhere someone might see. At any moment, one of their companions could come back to this little hollow in the gardens. It was shielded from direct view by trees and hedges, but people knew they were there. "Sabal…"

"He drew my attention to something, though it was not intentional on his part," Sabal said calmly, turning Aly's captive hand over so she could kiss the mage's knuckles. "Even a blind spider catches something in its web now and again."

Alystin knew she should probably pull away and try to return things to normal, but she found herself enthralled by seeing _her_ Sabal out in the world beyond their private space for a moment. She managed to find the presence of mind to say softly, "Sabal."

"I know," Sabal said, watching with satisfaction the wonderment in those lovely grey eyes. "You deserve things that aren't secret, _ussta ssin._ You should hear it from me said aloud, not whispered, that if I could hold the world in my hands, I would give it to you. That if I could, I would do anything and everything for you."

Even to the wizard, declarations of feelings of any kind from Sabal were almost unheard of. The last one Aly could think of was when she'd confessed to heresy and Sabal had answered, _You'll always have me._ Hearing one here, in a place that wasn't their bed or even safe, was like being hit from a bolt from the blue. "I know, _d'anthe_ ," Alystin said. She gave Sabal's hand a squeeze and pulled the wilder up.

Sabal sat down on the bench next to her lover and pulled Alystin in close. "I wasn't finished," the wilder murmured into the wizard's ear. Her arms slipped around Aly's slender waist. Now she would be taking the real leap out of her own comfort zone. "You deserve to hear me say that I love you, Alystin."

Aly's lips parted in surprise and she found herself just looking at Sabal for a moment while she tried to form words. Unable to find any, she leaned in and kissed the wilder, lingering against her lover's lips. The soft contact jolted her mind back to life. "I love you too," the wizard whispered when she had to pull away to breathe. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen those amber eyes so clear, removed from any worry or thought of anything but this.

"You will always have me," Sabal promised again, tucking some of Alystin's currently brown hair back behind a rounded ear. She caught the book before it fell out of Alystin's lap and set it carefully to the side. "And you deserved to actually hear it."

"Does this mean…?" Alystin started to ask, but she couldn't quite finish it.

"I don't care who knows," Sabal said quietly, following the line of Alystin's cheekbone with her fingertips. "And if someone ever tries to use that to hurt you, there won't be enough of them left for a healing spell to touch."

Alystin's smile widened slightly. "I know," she said. "And I'll fight for you just as hard."

Sabal touched her forehead to the wizard's. "Then we have nothing to worry about," she said with confidence.

Alystin wasn't certain that she was ready to tell anyone, but the fact that Sabal was willing to meant the world to her. She hadn't realized how good it would feel to hear Sabal actually say things aloud. She'd known that Sabal cared about her, but hearing it was…well, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. "Why don't we go back to our room?" Alystin said softly and deliberately.

"And your studies?" Sabal said softly.

"They can wait," Aly said. "Nothing's more important to me than you are, _d'anthe._ "

Sabal smiled. "Lead the way."

* * *

Maev smiled at Camran as they made their last circuit of the gardens. His friends were long gone and she knew that her brother would probably be turning up at any moment. "See you tomorrow?" she said softly. The pretty brunette had spent their walk as close to him as she could be while they walked, laughing often enough that her face was a little bit sore in the best of ways.

"Nothing would make me happier," Camran said genuinely. "Where and when?"

Her smile brightened a little and she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said softly. "Out here by the roses in midmorning. Logan will be out hunting all day."

Camran's cheeks reddened, but he grinned. "I'll be there," he promised.

"Maev!" Logan shouted not far away.

"Coming!" she called, reluctantly stepping back away from Camran. She smiled at him one last time. "Tomorrow."

Camran watched her go, unable to stop grinning even as he walked away towards the training yard. Locating the others was easy: Storunn was bellowing out helpful advice to Linnan and Nendir as they locked in mock combat. The world seemed brighter than it had before. He knew he would need to thank Aly and Sabal, but there was no sign of either of them. He sat down on the bench next to Storunn. "How are they doing?"

"Good," the dwarf said gruffly. "Nendir's getting' good. We can still put him on his back, but he goes down fightin'." Camran knew that 'we' meant Storunn and Sabal. "And Linnan's always been a slippery little bugger."

Camran chuckled. "So I take it you're not worried about our chances."

Storunn looked up at him. "'Course I am," the warrior said. "We're fighting fiends, lad. Ye think that one we saw was a big 'un? Ye ain't seen nuthin' yet."

The priest of Sune turned his face up towards the sky. At the moment, he had never felt closer to his goddess. "We'll be fine," he said with confidence. "We all have things to live for."

A shadow fell across them and Camran looked over. A strange figure stood there: a woman, but hunched and hooded, shrouded in rags. Bones rattled, dangling from the edge of her hood. He couldn't make out her face, but he was guessing based on how she moved that she was blind. Her aged hands were gnarled and long-nailed, almost clawed. "You," she said, leveling a finger at the human. She had an accent that was so foreign it actually sounded harsh, certainly not one Camran had ever heard before, and she smelled of something black and unwholesome. "You will take me to the drow. I have a message."

"What message?" Camran asked as he clambered to his feet, unable to crush a sudden feeling of dread.

"You will take me to the drow."


	11. The Gloves Come Off

This time, Aly was the one asleep when someone knocked on the door. Sabal heard it from the bedroom and pulled on clothes quickly. She would have shouted that she was coming, but she didn't want to wake up the sleeping wizard. Sabal closed the door to the bedroom behind herself as she walked out into the sitting room of the suite. Before she even reached the door, she could feel an altogether too familiar kind of mind on the other side of the door: twisted and black with a feline fascination for watching things struggle. Even with it disguised, she was familiar enough with it to know exactly what it was. A sudden urgency lent wings to her movement towards the door. She ripped the door open. "Camran, get away from her!" Sabal warned.

"Greetings from the Demonweb, Sabal A'Daragon," the creature said in Drow from beneath its hood. Camran backpedaled quickly when he heard their drow's warning. None of them could understand what it was saying to Sabal, but they all knew it was nothing good from her reaction. Camran saw her hand twitch towards her hip, searching for a weapon that wasn't there.

Sabal wished she had her sword. This was a Handmaiden, but if she was going to keep her cover, she was going to have to somehow get rid of it. Yvonnel would understand that much. "What do you want?" she demanded.

The hooded, formerly shambling creature moved like a great hunting cat now, hurling itself at Sabal. The wilder just barely missed her dodge. The yochlol caught her by the throat and slammed her against the wall with demonic strength. "You will bring that which was stolen to one of us," the creature purred in her ear, digging in its long nails. "Not the Lady of Sacrifice. Not Firehair. Is this understood?"

Sabal drove her knee into the creature's pelvis, breaking its grip. "Understood," she snarled as she grabbed for something heavy to smash onto its face. No one would else would be able to understand what was being said, but it would sound very much like a confrontation. She grabbed a book-end and swung it, catching the creature in the side of the head.

It shrieked with laughter as it hit the ground, the demonic sound filling the room. Before Sabal could drive her mind at its revolting alien one, Storunn had brought his axe down on its head. The body melted away like a fine mist, leaving no trace of the creature other than the look on everyone's faces and a pool of black ichor. Sabal dropped the book end just as Alystin pulled the door to their room open, half-dressed. "What—?" Aly started to say. She stopped when she recognized that smell of Abyssal wind.

"We're fine," Sabal said as calmly as she could. She felt chilled, though. Was it really so easy for Lloth's influence to be felt even on the surface? It reminded her with painful clarity that nowhere was beyond the reach of her goddess.

"I'm sorry, Sabal," Camran said, looking stricken. "If I'd realized she meant to kill you, I wouldn't have—"

Sabal held up a hand. "You're fine," she said. She could still feel those claws pressing into her neck. Whatever the reason for its assault, it had made the message stick. There would be a price to pay if she didn't give the Spider Queen what she wanted.

The door where her friends had spilled in through opened again, and this time Alustriel was there, flanked by guards. "Is everyone alright?" the human noblewoman asked, concerned. Her bright eyes immediately noted the dropped book-end, still spattered with dark blood, and Sabal's narrowed amber eyes.

"Fine," Sabal said curtly, brushing herself off.

"What was it?" Linnan asked, staring at the space where the body had laid.

"A…devil. Silverymoon is not as safe as I had thought." Sabal was sure she looked as composed as ever, but behind the façade, she felt legitimately shaken. Everything had seemed so…safe. This was a reminder that the danger and chaos of the Underdark was present just as much on the surface. More than that, it brought her full attention back to what was expected of her. It had been so easy to forget with Aly.

"How did it get through the defenses?" Nendir demanded.

"Someone must have conjured it within the High Palace," Alystin said with unwavering certainty. The echo of the demon that had been in the room was familiar to her as well: yochlol. She was an adept enough summoner that she could recognize it just by the faint impressions of magic left. She'd felt the wards herself when they walked in. A demon would not have been able to pass through that. But where was really safe from the servants of a greater deity? The idea of Lloth having an agent here chilled her to the bone all the same. "Something like that moving through the defenses would have been detected."

"It would have been," Alustriel confirmed. "And I would have noticed someone summoning something like that in my home. Just a little bit ago, I felt a wrongness. It came in with one of the guards—a strange stone slipped into his pocket. I found him, but not what was with him. The stone must have had the creature bound to it. Once it reached its intended destination, I imagine it manifested. I'm sorry I didn't reach you sooner."

"Well, of all the people it could have tried to attack…" Linnan said with a small, slightly nervous chuckle.

"What did it want? It spoke to you, Sabal," Camran said, watching his companion. The drowess seemed unharmed, though her expression suggested her thoughts were somewhere else.

"It brought its master's regards," Sabal said dryly, earning a concerned look from Alustriel and Aly both. The human noblewoman was easily powerful enough and trained enough to tell that this was a demon, not a devil. "It's fine, Camran. Why don't you four help the guards make certain there's not another one?"

"Come on, lads," Storunn said, shouldering his axe.

The guards and companions filtered out of the room until it was just Sabal, Aly, and their host. "You might have told them the truth," Alustriel said with a gentle reproach. "That was an agent of Lloth, yes?"

"Yes," Sabal said. She knew she was going to have to test the limits of her ability to twist words here. She crossed her arms, glaring down at the spot where the yochlol had fallen. Its dark blood was still pooled on the floor. "The Spider Queen is…displeased."

Alystin turned worried grey eyes on her lover. "Are you going to be alright?" she asked even though she knew Sabal could make no guarantee. Lloth was too unpredictable.

"I'll survive," Sabal said automatically.

"They're expending a great deal of effort to reach you, Sabal. More than was spent on Drizzt," Alustriel said with concern.

Sabal hesitated before speaking, trying to gauge how much was safe to reveal. "Some tools have more utility, and thus value, than others," she said. A renegade male drow had the potential to evade scrutiny so long as he stayed out from under Lloth's eyes, but a trained and devoted rarity like Sabal would draw attention wherever she went, no matter how far from Menzoberranzan. She was too useful to be forgotten.

"They won't be able to follow this with force," Aly said with a calm she didn't really feel. Panic didn't help, but it certainly felt tempting in times like this. "Just sending a message this way would have required they expend all the power they managed to accumulate. It will be a very long time before they can exert influence anywhere near Silverymoon again."

"Agreed," Alustriel said almost meditatively, clearly reflecting on this breach of security. She looked at Sabal with unspoken question in her eyes. "It was an important statement to them, then. You must have truly earned Lloth's anger."

The drowess's lips quirked up into a humorless smile. "That was Lloth's irritation, not her anger," Sabal said. "Were she truly furious, I doubt we would be having this conversation." She sighed. "I didn't think trouble would follow me so attentively. I…apologize, if I put any of your people at risk."

"Judging by the lack of mayhem, I think it was quite single-minded," Alustriel commented. She seemed to know that Sabal was feeling a bit shaken at the moment. "Whatever you decide to do, you still have my offer of assistance with its conditions, Sabal. I'm sorry it found you here. I understand if you are unwilling to stay."

The amber-eyed drowess looked over at Alustriel, feeling a sudden surge of gratitude. Alustriel had been good to her, as anxiety-provoking as the beneficience was, and that trend was continuing. There was undoubtedly a hidden string somewhere, but it reminded her of the few times in her life where someone had treated her with some level of fondness in addition to respect. "Thank you."

"I'll leave you two to talk," Alustriel said as if she'd sensed all the words that were fighting each other for a place on the tip of Aly's tongue.

The human noblewoman let herself out of the room and as soon as the door closed behind her, Aly had her arms around Sabal. " _D'anthe_ , are you alright?" Aly asked.

"It didn't hurt me," Sabal said by way of reassurance, returning the embrace without thinking.

"That wasn't what I asked," the wizard said quietly.

Sabal sighed. "Lloth wants what Holt has," the amber-eyed drowess said in a low voice. "If She doesn't get it…"

Alystin held her lover a little tighter, feeling sick to her stomach at the idea of Sabal experiencing Lloth's wrath. Images of an amber-eyed drider flashed behind her eyes despite all of her best efforts to not go there. "We'll find it," she promised. She was far, far more afraid of what Lloth might do to Sabal than what Asmodeus's followers had in store for them.

* * *

Alustriel seemed quite genuinely sorry to see them go. Sabal had conferred with the Lady of Silverymoon in quiet words for a few minutes before she joined the group, confirming what had already been discussed. They would have her aid, provided they could obtain enough evidence. Camran had made his own farewell to Maev, reluctant to leave the young lady his heart had attached itself to. Theirs was a parting of whispers and sorrowful smiles that reminded Aly of her own early goodbyes to her lover. She turned her eyes away to avoid watching and possibly intruding on their private moment.

It would be a long journey to Waterdeep, but at least they were following a main road now. It was even paved, though the stones were cracked and weather-worn for much of the way until they neared Waterdeep. Sabal and Aly hadn't needed to say anything for the others to understand that the intruder was their reason for departure. Maybe that was why there had been no argument. Things returned to normal for the most part, though both women were understandably more guarded than they had been before. More often than not, Nendir saw Sabal lost in concentration, no doubt keeping her mind open enough to feel for threats unseen. He didn't feel that she was overreacting. If their enemy could reach them in Silverymoon, no doubt the road would be that much easier.

However, the path was quiet. They had passed many fellow travelers, many traders with the caravans that made a circuit of the Sword Coast or came from even further afield, but the small group kept their distance and Sabal kept her hood firmly in place. The land was slowly becoming more and more civilized as they headed towards the City of Splendors: forest and rough terrain gave way to carefully cultivated farms and small hamlets of a size near that of the village of Westerwood. The more they traveled, the more populated and tame the countryside became.

"What are we going to do when we reach the city?" Camran asked as they neared Waterdeep. They were less than a day out now. Waterdeep was visible in the distance when they crested a high hill, a vast and shining city that was larger than even Menzoberranzan. The smell of salt sea was on the wind, something very much foreign to Sabal and Aly.

Sabal stopped, her eyes fixed on the city. "We find Drustan Whelan," she said. "He will have answers for us, if there are any to be had."

"I've been thinking about that," Aly said. "We need to be careful. If Holt finds out that Drustan is willing to testify against him to Alustriel, the natural thought would be murder. We need Drustan alive."

"We also need to convince Drustan to talk to us," Nendir pointed out.

Storunn chuckled. "Why d'ye think we keep Sabal about? Decoration?" the dwarf said with amusement. He didn't have a high opinion of someone who trafficked with devil-worshippers, so he wasn't going to be too bent out of shape if Sabal put the fear of the gods into their future witness. "Let's get walkin'."

The road gradually became better and better paved. Guard patrols were present in force, certainly enough to deter any bandit from daring to move so close to the city. Waterdeep lacked the strange beauty of Menzoberranzan, but it was large enough to rival even Erelhei-Cinlu, the darkly enchanted capital of the drow realms. The city sprawled from the seaside north and along the flanks of the great Undermountain, virtually teeming with life as a trading hub for the whole of the north of Faerûn. The trickle of people they had seen along the way grew rapidly to become a veritable river of people flowing in and out of the city. They were just a few more faces lost among the crowd. All manner of civilized folk made their homes in the city. Sabal obviously would have stuck out without her hood, but people paid little heed to her with it on. The others drew no attention whatsoever as they made their way through the gates alongside her.

In the press of the crowds, it was easy to lose sight of each other. Aly caught Sabal's armored hand, feeling reassured when the wilder squeezed slightly in answer. Camran smiled a little bit when he saw it, but he didn't draw attention to it. The wizard was staying as close as possible to their fearsome companion, her shoulder almost in constant contact with Sabal's. Camran and Nendir kept Linnan between them so he wouldn't be swept away and Storunn brought up the rear with his usual swagger. The market district was expansive, packed full of stalls in a variety of colors which peddled almost every kind of ware under the sun. At least, all the legal wares. Sabal was certain that the illegal had its place too, just not out in the open like this.

"We should find a place to stay," Nendir said over the cacophony of crowd noise.

The Dancing Cyclops was the place the party agreed on, despite Sabal's dissent based on the name alone. It was a familial, jovial place and home base of altogether too many adventuring parties for their wilder's comfort. It was a stone-and-wood construction of two stories, with a colorfully painted sign of its namesake. Storunn pulled the door open and held it for them all, the sounds of lively music and people enjoying themselves thankfully taking over the noise of people hawking wares and carrying out business. People came in a variety, though humans dominated. There were elves, dwarves, gnomes, halflings, half-elves, and even a half-orc here. Almost everyone was armed, but they seemed friendly enough. Nendir, Linnan, Camran, and Storunn all relaxed. Aly stiffened slightly when people moved into her space, at least until Sabal started projecting that uncomfortable sensation of cold in the minds of undesirable people who orbited too close to the hooded drow and her lover.

Still, there was anonymity in a crowd, and that was quite valuable for a group like them. "We're safe enough here," Camran said while Aly bought rooms. The wizard was charming enough that the price was never hiked for her. Sabal was definitely not their go-to person for solutions that didn't involve either the careful application of terror or violence.

"I don't like it," Sabal said, her lip curling as a drunk dwarf almost sloshed ale on her.

"Sabal, you like very few things in this world," Nendir said with exasperation.

Amber eyes focused on him. "You say that like it's a bad thing," she said. She looked down at their halfling. "Linnan, keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary."

Linnan gave their drow a little salute before melting away into the crowd. Sabal trusted him to be the most perceptive of the group and the least easily spotted. Camran was too earnest, Storunn was too boisterous, and Nendir was too refined. Aly would probably have her nose in a book almost immediately and Sabal herself would draw curious looks. Hence, she had chosen their most able lookout.

The sea of thoughts rendered deafening by alcohol was almost painful for Sabal, so she gave up on sensing approaching danger and focused on walling herself off behind the frozen steel of her will. Aly returned just as they finally found an empty table off to the side. Sabal almost sighed with relief to have the wizard back unscathed, though she couldn't explain what she saw as a threat. She didn't like Waterdeep. It shared the alien nature of Silverymoon but not its tranquility and had all the underlying vice that filled Menzoberranzan's own dark recesses. She was absolutely certain of that much.

"It's going to be cramped. We have _a_ room," Aly announced reluctantly as Linnan appeared out of the crowd about ten minutes later. There had been some spirited negotiations from her to acquire another room, but unavailable was unavailable. This wasn't the Underdark, where people would go out of their way to make her happy even if she wasn't a particularly famous drow noble. "Apparently there's a festival in town—that's why it's so crowded. Unless we want to split up and go to different inns…"

"It's fine," Sabal said brusquely, but she wasn't nearly as upset about it as she might have been. That crawling sensation Waterdeep gave her made her almost eager to have her companions nearby. As much torture as it would have taken for her to admit it, she did have every confidence that her companions would have her back if things went south with the local authorities. Provided she hadn't done anything egregious, anyway. "Holt will have spies. We need to find Whelan as quickly as possible."

What she wasn't saying, but what Aly knew she was thinking, was that they needed to find Whelan as quickly as possible because of Lloth just as much as Holt. The Spider Queen was not known as an understanding goddess who allowed for time. Her displeasure had been made quite clear to Sabal and the inquisitor was not about to test the limits thereof.

Nendir raised an eyebrow at her response. He'd expected something more acerbic from their prickly drowess. Sabal seemed more than just irritated. She seemed…worried. He didn't like that. Sabal was someone who worried _other_ people. Still, inquiring into her thoughts would probably end with him getting snapped at. "Sounds like a plan," the elf said instead of prying. "Though we'll probably want to go at night and catch him when his shop isn't full of customers."

"Witnesses would probably be problematic," Alystin admitted softly. "Sabal, let's unpack and leave our extra gear here. We don't want to go charging into this. Waterdeep is a new city. We don't know what the politics here are or who Holt's allies happen to be."

Sabal inclined her head in an acknowledging nod by way of answer and headed up the stairs to their room. It was actually of a decent size, with straw mattresses spread out on the floor like in Westerwood. It would serve well enough. They all checked for bugs before laying their bedrolls out on top, not that there would be a lot they could do about bugs if they were there short of breaking out cantrips. Thankfully, the inn was clean and that wasn't going to be a problem.

Nendir caught Aly by the elbow as they finished and headed back down to the common area, delaying her enough that they had some space to talk out of earshot of their wilder. "She's really tense," he commented. "More than normal Sabal. Is everything alright?"

"It'll be fine," the wizard assured him. "We're just on Holt's home ground. He has the advantage now, which isn't exactly a desirable situation."

Their ranger nodded. It was a sensible answer and one that he could see in Sabal. As far as he was concerned, she was extremely cautious even when things were safe, so paranoia now wasn't a huge surprise. "We'll do fine," Nendir said. He could see a hint of Sabal's worry in Alystin's grey eyes now that he was watching her a little more closely.

"I hope so," Aly said, squaring her shoulders a little bit. "Let's catch up to the others."

Sabal was waiting for them impatiently downstairs as Linnan and Camran secured a table off to the side so their drow could have her back to a wall. It was equidistance between two doors, which she approved of. If they had to make a hasty exit, they would have options. "We can have dinner here, then go looking," Linnan said with his usual, casual cheer. "Won't be too hard to find his shop. I'll go have a look-see and chat with some locals while you lot have dinner."

The halfling went his separate way, confident in his ability to remain unnoticed. Sabal was quiet all through dinner. She ate the thick stew with its strange vegetables without a complaint, amber eyes focused over Camran's shoulder. He was sitting across from their drowess with his back to the room. She wasn't looking at anything in particular, just waiting quietly for something unpleasant to happen or for night to fall. This time, thankfully, night fell rather than some confrontation erupting and their halfling returned unscathed. They were quick to head out into the streets. Linnan lead the way, as this was more his area of expertise than anyone else's. Sabal could find people, but she was out of her element in a surface city and she didn't know Whelan's mind to locate him that way.

Their path wound through back alleys and down narrow avenues. Waterdeep was not a centrally planned city and had grown organically over the course of years, which made it a veritable warren. They were still close to the main roads, though, which made it harder to get lost. Linnan seemed to know where he was going and moved with a purpose as the others followed along. Sabal opened her mind again, hunting for any sign that their group was being shadowed. So far, they seemed to be doing well, though that put her less at ease rather than more. The followers of Asmodeus were not fools and eventually they would discover who was working against them—presuming they hadn't already. She was certain that her group's advantage would come to an end sooner rather than later.

"This is the place," Linnan announced, coming to a halt outside a small shop on the corner of the street with a steep sloping roof and a front window of glass with frosted patterns of arcane warding symbols. The sign read _Panacea,_ a nod to Whelan's front as an apocathery. "Should we knock or do you want me to pick the lock?"

Storunn stepped forward and pounded on the door with the brazen thudding only a dwarf could generate. Aly covered her smile with one hand and Sabal rolled her eyes. "Very subtle," the inquisitor said dryly.

"Thanks," Storunn said with a broad grin.

The door opened to reveal a human man with dark hair and a bristling beard, his eyebrows thick enough to be matching caterpillars. He was swarthy and wiry in build, looking more like he hailed from Calimshan or somewhere else in the south than here on the Sword Coast. "We're closed," he said brusquely.

Sabal pulled down her hood. "I think you can accommodate us," she said smoothly, face now visible to Drustan. "Durna Thuldark recommended you highly."

The merchant's eyebrows shot up and he took a step backwards. "Come in," he said in a low voice. "I'll put the kettle on." He waved the party in, and closed the door behind them before barring it. "This is about Holt, then. Laird Thuldark expressed…interest to me when I made requests for his spell components and indicated it might draw attention with certain people whose attention it is better to not draw."

Drustan ushered them into the back room and put his iron kettle on the stove. He had to hunt around to find enough teacups. Aly and Sabal watched him carefully, hunting for signs of duplicity or nervousness. He seemed calm and collected rather than fretting, surprised but not excessively so. He'd clearly expected something to come of his interaction with Durna. Alystin was the first to speak. "If you could tell us anything about Holt, that would be appreciated," she said.

"He is a powerful man. Not one of the Masked Lords, but undoubtedly friends with at least one or two. I'm thoroughly convinced that he's made a fiendish pact of some kind. He's been…changing," Drustan explained. "Little things. The color of his eyes, the way he walks, the way he speaks. He's charming enough that he hasn't drawn suspicion. And he's not alone. He has adventurers at his beck and call. They unearth artifacts for him and acquire ingredients too rare for me to provide as well as handling potential threats. I doubt they know his true nature as you and I do."

"But you haven't gone to the authorities," Nendir said.

Drustan chuckled. "I'd rather not cool my heels in a cell, waiting for Holt to have me murdered. As long as I'm more valuable to him dead than alive, I've got nothing to worry about."

"We need to disrupt his supply of components," Sabal said, her attention focused on Drustan. "I don't expect you to stop selling to him, but if his shipments were to be destroyed, he would have another enemy to blame."

"And why, exactly, should I help you?" Drustan said casually. "And please don't say that you'll kill me if I don't comply, _ussta jallil._ That's hardly the foundation for a cordial relationship."

"Holt is a clear danger to everyone in Waterdeep, yourself included," Nendir said. He'd learned from his time with the group that sometimes it was better to appeal to enlightened self-interest than the angels of people's better nature.

"He won't attack the city. Suicidal he is not," the merchant said.

"Then we'll make it a strictly business arrangement," Aly said calmly. "We'll pay you and offer you protection from Holt if he decides to turn on you."

Drustan stroked his beard thoughtfully, considering the wizard for a long moment before speaking. "Now we're speaking the same language," he said, a smile forming. "But what protection could you offer me from a diabolist and a cult? There are more of them than there are of you by far."

"Lady Alustriel of the Silver Marches has agreed to extend asylum to you if things take an unpleasant turn," Sabal said. It was an arrangement she'd worked out with Alustriel just before they'd left. Part of the agreement was that Drustan would testify to the human noblewoman, but he didn't need to know that. "We can escort you to Silverymoon."

"That is certainly protection," the merchant said. He poured them each a cup of tea, but Sabal and Aly both let theirs sit cautiously. As the drow were fond of saying, any food could be poison. "As for my price, I have a request rather than pecuniary reward. A favor for a favor, as you should be able to appreciate, _ussta jallil._ "

"You have my attention," their wilder said. She knew that she didn't need to say more to Drustan for him to understand that she wasn't agreeing to anything until she'd heard the whole story.

"Lord Holt is not my only client interested in darker things," Drustan said, ignoring the hard looks of Camran, Nendir, and Storunn. Linnan wasn't surprised after everything he'd heard while doing his investigating and for Sabal and Aly such things naturally followed. If it was illegal, it was profitable, and if it was profitable, there would be merchants of negotiable conscience who would sell it. "I have an understanding with a number of people who require a variety of substances—not all of them spell components. However, one of them has been feeling a financial squeeze and has thus been trying to force me to reduce my price when selling to him. I've refused him rather emphatically, as the substance he requires is difficult to obtain and expensive to harvest. Were I to sell to him at his price, I would quickly be a pauper. As a result, he's been threatening to call the authorities on me."

"What exactly are you asking for, Drustan?" Nendir asked, his countenance grim. He had an unpleasant feeling that he knew where this was going.

"The gentleman in question is no longer a valued customer, nor a customer of mine at all. He is a danger to myself and my business. I'd like you to make certain that he can't tell anyone about me, in the most certain of ways possible," Drustan said. "Dead men tell no tales."

Everyone looked at Sabal, waiting for her answer. Sabal could feel without needing to expend any effort the varied reactions. Alystin's reluctant acceptance, Storunn's grim opposition, Nendir and Camran's sharp disapproval, and Linnan's wariness. Of course they had to go and make it complicated. It would have been easiest just to kill the man in question and dump his body in the harbor with a few weights, if she even bothered to dispose of it. Instead, she was going to have to bend herself to suit their qualms of conscience. "What if the man in question were to simply stop making trouble?" Sabal said. "If he did not recall your face or your business or anything of that nature? If he did not continue to represent the threat of the local authorities?" It would be a more delicate use of her psionic power than she generally engaged in, but it was possible. Granted, it would still strip large chunks of his memory and thus identity from him, which she considered crueler than death, but the idea that he would be allowed to live would probably assuage the guilt of the rest of her party.

Drustan raised an eyebrow. "I would prefer certainty. I'm not sure that what you offer is even possible or sustainable."

"I assure you that I can deliver," Sabal said as she leaned forward slightly to rest her elbows on the table. "And when I am done, if you find my work unsatisfactory, then we can renegotiate. Who is this man and what is his poison?"

"He's a luhix addict," Drustan said.

Alystin inhaled sharply at the mention of luhix. She was familiar with the abyssal drug and its effects. If their man was still on it, he would be a serious problem even for a warrior like Sabal. Nendir looked over at her curiously. "Luhix?" he asked.

"It's an abyssal drug," Alystin said. "Plants that grow in the Lower Planes, powdered and sprinkled onto a self-inflicted, bloody wound that's then sealed tightly. The user feels intense pain at first, but then they are immune to pain once the drug takes effect. I was asked to deal with an overdose once, but my talents were insufficient. It was not a pretty death. You can find it in the Underdark more readily than the surface, but it is expensive even there. Thousands of gold a dose."

"Correct," Drustan said, looking faintly impressed with their wizard. "I didn't realize Durna had sent someone with a knowledge of my trade."

"I'm sure I can't compete with an expert," Alystin said to neatly deflect his thoughts. She knew more about poisons, drugs, and antidotes than even the average noble drow as she'd spent a considerable amount of time studying the healing of ailments brought on by said drugs and poisons. "I dabbled a little once in the study of such things."

"So your client was a wealthy man," Sabal said, mentally filing the information away for further examination.

"Destitute now as a result of his habit, but yes. Niall Lìosach is his name. He was an adventurer for many years, fabulously wealthy. It was luhix that granted him his success; he could wade into combat fearlessly and never flinch from a blow. It made him stronger, faster, tougher. He retired at the peak of his career, wisely, but his money soon ran out. Luhix is, as your friend wisely pointed out, expensive. Over the past few years, he has alienated his friends and incurred massive debts to finance his habit. It's to the point where no one will lend to him," Drustan said.

It would be kinder to kill this man, as far as Sabal was concerned. She knew that from a situation like that, there was little hope of recovery. Alystin was thinking in the same vein. If they left him alive, what would he have? An agonizing craving for a drug he would no longer remember how to obtain, more debt than he would ever be able to repay, and the loneliness of a life without allies? It was no way for a famous warrior to live. While drow were generally survivalists at heart, they were also proud. Sabal in particular felt that if she were in his situation, she would have rather gone out with her back against the wall and a sword in her hand.

"Where can we find him?" Sabal asked, carefully not giving voice to those thoughts.

"The Inn of the Dripping Dagger," Drustan said. "It's in the Trades Ward. Not hard to find for people like yourself. The prices there are always lower for those who are down on their luck. I imagine that's why he goes there."

Sabal sighed and stood up. "Then we will deal with him, and return," the wilder said. "A favor for a favor, Whelan."

The merchant smiled. "A favor for a favor," he echoed.

Once they were outside, the unified front of the group fractured quickly. Camran and Nendir weren't about to maintain their silence for long. "How could you agree?" Nendir demanded. "We are helping a drug dealer who's willing to have a man killed just because—"

"Quiet!" Sabal snarled, rounding on the elf. She hadn't pulled her hood up yet, so the full force of her displeasure was visible in her scarred face. Normally she would have looked impassive, but her nerves were worn and frayed after weeks of looking over her shouder since the yochlol attacked her in Silverymoon. "This is the price of Drustan's help. I did not promise you that fighting devils was for the faint-hearted. Am I content with the deal? No. But if you find this bargain so objectionable that you're willing to tear into me about it, _go home._ There is only worse to come."

It was a very different admonition than Nendir was used to hearing from her. Not once before had she ever told him to leave if he didn't like it. "Sabal, this isn't right. It's not fair t—"

"A fair is a place where you play games, and I don't see any gods-damned tents. Welcome to the world we all have to live in," Sabal said with that same savage intensity. "It's not _right_ if he dies? Is living like he is _right_? Does _right_ matter to you so much that you forget about how many lives are lost because of every moment of dithering delay? I know what it is to be a protector, Nendir. I have done it my entire life. Sometimes we have to do things that aren't _right_ for the sake of others."

Alystin reached out, putting a hand on Sabal's arm. "Sabal, please," the wizard said softly. She could see Nendir was completely off-balance now and perhaps even feeling wounded. Camran didn't look much better, even if he wasn't the current victim of Sabal's verbal cut-down. She understood where her lover was coming from, but she also knew that it was motivated by Sabal's own frustration and agitation more than any wrongdoing on Nendir's part. He'd protested her decision before, it was just that Sabal had no more patience left to give.

"We have a cult to stop," Sabal said. It was a charge she understood clearly, little different from the many times she had cleaned up small cults or sects of heretics in the past. She knew that when it came to chasing things like this, one did whatever necessity and one's duties dictated. "That is my priority."

Nendir took a deep breath. "Then that's what we'll do," he said. "But we don't have to sell our souls to Drustan Whelan to do it."

"Believe me, Nendir, I know who owns my soul, and it's not Drustan Whelan," the wilder said with bleak certainty.


	12. The Witness

_…Sabal walked down the halls of the Yath'Abban, empty like the quiet hours in the sleeping cycle when few carried out their business. She stopped when she saw a soapstone and a bucket standing on the floor next to the altar in the chapel of Lloth, waiting for her like they had when she was a girl. She walked forward picked the soapstone up, studying the dark stains for a moment before kneeling down and starting to scrub. She was wearing her armor still, without a weapon, but it didn't impede her work. She wasn't alone for long._

 _"What are you doing?" a familiar voice asked, stern and cool in tone._

 _Sabal looked up and felt her heart jump up into her throat._

 _There, standing before her, was the familiar figure of her mentor. Xullae A'Daragon was most certainly dead, even in her current incarnation. Her body was covered in wounds inflicted by her student, her armor damaged, and her throat had been torn apart by a knife—Sabal's knife. But her speech came naturally, as if she was unwounded and alive. Her crimson eyes were not glassy now, and her ivory hair was swept up into a bun._

 _"Xullae!" The name jumped from her lips before she could think. Sabal had never been a demonstrative woman, but she leaped up and almost tackled her mentor to the floor, wrapping her arms around the older inquisitor. Sabal could feel her eyes burning. The guilt that came with seeing those wounds again was almost overwhelming, but she was grateful for the chance to see Xullae again, even if it was a dream. This had to be a dream. She knew better than anyone that her mentor was gone…she still remembered the rush of hot blood over her hands and those last, fleeting thoughts. "I—" She couldn't even think of the words._

 _Xullae gently pulled back, her crimson eyes focusing intently on her student's amber ones. "What are you doing, Sabal?"_

 _"I don't understand," Sabal said. She was somewhat reassured by the way Xullae's hands stayed on her shoulders, but she was still confused by the question. "Do you mean the surface?"_

 _"What are you doing?" Xullae repeated. This time, however, she clarified. "What are you doing with Alystin?"_

 _"I love her," Sabal said, trying not to sound defensive. She wanted Xullae to approve, even a phantom and even after so many years._

 _"I know," Xullae said. She sat down on the steps and looked up at Sabal for a long moment before patting the stone steps by her side. "But what are you doing to protect her? Do you think you can simply appease the Abyss by giving it this map and that will solve everything?"_

 _Sabal sat down. It had always been easier to talk like this, sitting next to Xullae but not looking into her eyes. The open scrutiny always made her self-conscious. One didn't keep secrets from an inquisitor. "I don't know. I don't want to anger Lloth, but I can't lose her either." She felt like a little girl again, trying to grasp the magnitude of a problem she didn't have the power to solve._

 _"You've seen glimpses of a future possible if the Abyss is allowed to claim Alystin. Hints of what might be," Xullae said. "As Yvonnel said, the Abyss will have its pound of flesh from her in its time. Unless…well, unless you take a different path. There's still light in Aly, and light attracts light. She could return to a power not so inclined to ill-use her. Such a thing requires aid."_

 _Sabal was quiet for a long moment, considering this. She didn't want to see any of her dreams come anywhere near reality. "What can I do?" she said softly. "Lloth demands of me…and Aly won't leave me, even for her own good."_

 _"Love is a sacrifice," Xullae said. "In any of its forms. The best that we can do is make it unflinchingly. I know you, Sabal. I raised you. I taught you. I told you duty was the beginning and end of all things, but it was a lie. You are old enough, wise enough, to know that now. It kept you alive, it kept you whole, but now you are at a place where duty is no longer your whole world. Alystin is. Sometimes we have to give up what we are for the sake of that which we hold dearer than all other things, whether that means playing the villain or the hero."_

 _Sabal pulled her knees up to her chest the way she had when she was a girl, hugging them tightly. "She's worth it, Xullae," Sabal said softly._

 _Xullae sighed and turned her head, looking at her pupil with a sorrowful smile. "So were you."…_

"Sabal," Alystin said gently, touching her lover's cheek.

Almost as if on command, those amber eyes fluttered open. It was still dark out, the moonlight painting the wall of their room. She could hear Storunn snoring like a sawmill still, with Camran following suit in a much quieter way. Nendir and Linnan looked asleep when she turned her head. "What's wrong, _d'anthe?_ " Sabal asked. The uneasiness and conflicted emotions of her dream remained.

Alystin's answer was to brush a tear away from Sabal's eyes. "You were crying," the wizard said very quietly, her eyes worried.

Sabal sat up and rubbed at her eyes until the evidence was gone. Then she looked over at her lover. "Walk with me?" she asked softly. It was her way of saying that she wanted to talk without tipping off any of the others. It had been a tense night after their visit to Whelan, but everyone had eventually gone to sleep. They needed the time to rest and regroup before they went after Niall, just in case he had fiendish allies.

Sabal didn't want to agitate anyone by waking them up, nor did she want to have anyone eavesdrop on this conversation. She was alright with them knowing about her and Aly, but she wasn't alright with them knowing about Alystin's abyssal inclinations.

"Always," Aly said, rising to her feet.

She tangled her fingers with Sabal's once the wilder had donned her armor and walked with her out of the Dancing Cyclops. The light of false dawn was just beginning to break the eastern horizon, barely touching the sky above the city of Waterdeep. Sabal was quiet as they walked, something Alystin had become accustomed to long ago, when they were still friends. It was never easy to tell what she was thinking. Some part of Sabal always seemed to forget that not everyone could simply read her mind, though she was better about showing what she was thinking and feeling to Aly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" the wizard said quietly. She was still worried, but she was comforted by the familiar feeling of Sabal's gauntleted hand.

"I saw Xullae," Sabal said softly.

Aly understood. She knew the guilt was a weight that Sabal still carried around. The wizard had wrung the truth out of what happened that day from Ryld and Sabal had filled in the gaps as much as she could stand to. The beginning of an inquisitor's life of service was not a happy one. Alystin waited until they were in a narrow alley, out of the main view of the street, to wrap her arms around her lover. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Sabal said. She rested her forehead against Aly's for a long moment. "I don't want anything to happen to you, _ussta ssin_. But I know that this, that the Abyss, it's going to hurt you if nothing changes."

"It was my decision to make a deal," Alystin said. "It's worth it. I have you."

"Would you do anything for me, Aly?" Sabal asked quietly.

"Of course I would, _d'anthe_ ," the wizard said. There was no question in her mind as to that.

Sabal took a deep breath. "Will you love me no matter what happens? No matter what I have to do to keep us safe?"

Alystin touched her lover's face with gentle fingertips. "Always, Sabal," she said. "You mean more to me than life. Whatever happens, I will always love you."

Sabal leaned in and kissed her. There were a lot of things she wanted to say, but she couldn't find words to do them justice. She was _not_ going to lose Aly to the Abyss, no matter what she had to do to prevent it. Someone someday would have to pay the piper, but it didn't have to be Aly. The wilder slipped her arms around her lover and held her close. "I love you too," she said, fragile words for a feeling that could stand alone and unbowed for ten thousand years.

* * *

It was evening by the time Alystin had refilled her spell components, Camran had prayed, and they'd found it. The Inn of the Dripping Dagger was a three-story building in the Trades Ward off the main street, comprised of a stone taproom and two wooden floors above of rented rooms. Its famous, seemingly haunted door kept its peace when they entered rather than muttering some menacing or cryptic phrase, which almost disappointed Camran. He'd heard a little bit about it when Linnan was detailing the lore of the place and had been curious to hear it speak. Meanwhile, Alystin paused to examine the carved stone griffins perched on the edges of the flat roof, but was quick to follow the others into the building. It was rowdier than the Cyclops, its patrons almost to a one mercenaries or adventurers. It was smoky and warm with a low ceiling to the common room, full of sturdy wooden tables and chairs. Even at strange hours, it was a full house. Adventurers were not known for being quiet when they had full purses after a successful job.

"We should ask the staff," Alystin said, breaking the uncomfortable quiet that had descended on the group. Linnan had done his best to ameliorate things by relating to Camran stories of Waterdeep, but everyone's minds lingered on Sabal's outburst at Nendir. The elf carefully kept his gaze away from Sabal lest it provoke her further, but he was walking with a stiff jaw and narrowed eyes that were sufficient evidence at least to Aly of his displeasure.

"And what are we going to do when we find him?" Camran asked in a low voice.

Alystin hesitated. "I don't know," she admitted, looking towards their hooded wilder. "As much as I know you don't like it, that's up to Sabal."

"Will she kill him?" Nendir said from his position on her left. He was keeping their wizard between him and Sabal.

"I don't know," Aly repeated, her eyes following Sabal and Linnan. She sat down at a table to watch and wait. She was confident in their ability to handle this…just not in their ability to handle it in an 'approved' fashion. Storunn sat down next to her, his expression grim. He wasn't exactly thrilled with their drow's attitude towards their current mission either.

Over at the counter, Sabal was just one more adventurer to everyone else's eyes. Her plain sword and muted armor weren't quite flashy enough, but she had that out-of-place look that characterized most people who made the roads their home. "Do you know where I can find Niall Lìosach?" she asked the innkeeper who was at the bar.

"He owe you money too?" Filiare was a middle-aged human man with dark, albeit greying hair and a thick mustache. He seemed a jovial man by nature and moved like an old fighter. Sabal guessed that he was a retired wandering sword himself.

Linnan hopped up onto a stool. "Nope," the halfling said. "Heard he could help us."

It was a story he and Sabal had agreed on. If someone was hoping to protect Niall from loansharks, this would be a way to circumvent them. Filiare studied them. "Man's in poor health these days. Dunno what help he could be," he said. He didn't sound cautious, but his eyes were measuring the intention of the pair. It was impossible to read Sabal with her hood and shrouding, however.

"Hey, they're looking for Niall!" someone else called. "Where is that waste of space these days?"

"Over at his corner table, covered in his own filth!" someone answered back.

Filiare shook his head. "Kids these days," he mumbled.

There was laughter and Sabal felt her muscles coil with tension in response to her unspoken irritation. She didn't like it when people helped themselves to her business.

One of the adventurers swaggered over. He was a musclebound human who stood well over six feet tall, but he looked young. Sabal wasn't great with human ages, but she would have guessed younger than Camran by a year or two—barely more than a boy, but old enough to think he was the most dangerous thing around. "If you're looking for help, you can do better than Niall," he said.

Linnan looked at Sabal a little uneasily. He wasn't certain how she was going to take this. He glanced over and saw the rest of their group tense as well. Aly looked like she had a spell readied, Nendir's hand was on his sword, Storunn's on his axe, and Camran was leaning forward slightly in preparation for a jump up to his feet. The rogue let his hand wander back to the back of his belt where a long dagger waited. It was a little more subtle to draw than his short sword.

"This is no place for children," Sabal said with her usual bluntness. While the shock was still working its way through the boy's body, she grabbed him by the throat and slammed him back into a chair so hard the wood cracked on impact. The force was half muscle and half psionic, and the result was a deathly quiet bar. The adventurer went white as a sheet. _Anyone else?_ She asked it without using her voice, projecting out every inch of cold displeasure she felt. People shied away. Sabal had not been having a good time since they left Silverymoon and she was more than willing to inflict that on someone else if the opportunity arose.

"You can't—" the young man started to say, eyes still wide and white as he covered the forming bruises on his throat with one hand.

"Shut up!" one of his friends hissed, suddenly serious. The laughter in the room had died a harsh, sudden death.

Conversation picked up again, but with brittle and uneasy tones. The younger faces looked their way with gawking eyes and the older ones purposefully avoided doing so, staring down into their drinks. Sabal had demonstrated quite clearly that she was someone not to be trifled with.

A middle-aged man at a shadowy corner table beckoned to them, a haggard figure with a sallow face and sunken eyes. Sabal walked over, Linnan following faithfully on her heels. The others were watching from their table, Aly balanced on the edge of her seat with her lips pressed into a worried line. Camran and Nendir were still ready for action as well, though Storunn leaned back in his seat and started to drink again. "Have a seat," the man said roughly.

He was an unshaven, dark-haired human man probably in his forties, but he looked older. There was wear in his face, the kind that spoke of a man who looked like he'd had a good time in a bad way. Premature lines collected in his forehead and at the corners of his mouth, carved by years of hard living. His skin had a yellow-grey, death-like tint to it and his eyes were glassy. A puckered scar ran from the left corner of his mouth down his neck, a blow that should have killed him. There was something unsettling in his thousand-mile stare, at least to Linnan. Sabal didn't flinch. She knew that look too well to find it upsetting. "You're looking for me?" he said. It sounded like his throat had been sandpapered.

"Does the name Jaeger Holt mean anything to you, Niall?" Sabal said. Before he could speak, crude humor touching the corners of her mouth, she continued, "Beyond that he is the Ambassador of the Silver Marches and a very powerful man."

His jaw clicked shut and he gave her a thoughtful stare. "What's it worth to you?" Niall said, slouching back in his seat. He watched her with his dark, glassy eyes. They looked dead inside, as if the spirit had flown but the body continued in its own way.

Sabal was an expert at finding people's weak points. Her job was to pull them apart, break them down. Yvonnel had used her as an interrogation tool as well as an enforcer and hunter. She could tell that Niall would not be swayed by promises of coin or appeals to honor. He was a broken creature. He burned still, but only for two things. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. "I will help you with Drustan Whelan," she said quietly. "We both know what you want."

Linnan could only describe the emotion on the man's face as hunger. A burning, desperate hunger for his poison. "I'll help you," Niall said. "But we can't talk here. Holt hires these boys all the time for fetching things."

"Linnan, stay here with the others," Sabal ordered as she rose to her feet. Niall shuddered up to his and limped after her.

"But—" he started to say. He didn't have a good feeling about Sabal and their new source being alone together. He wasn't sure who he was afraid for, Sabal or Niall, but he had a growing sense that this wouldn't end well.

 _Stay,_ Sabal ordered psionically. Linnan found that his feet suddenly didn't want to move. It was unnerving at best. Once he could move again, after she'd made it out of the door with Niall, Linnan went over to the others.

"He agreed to help us," the halfling reported solemnly. "Sabal said she'd help him with Drustan."

"And you let them go off alone? She'll kill him!" Camran said in a low voice, his eyes wide.

"I'm more worried about Sabal," Aly said. When they all looked at her, she sighed. "I will guarantee you that Niall is not a good man. Luhix is an abyssal drug, and the Abyss has a corrosive effect on even good people. It makes its users unpredictable and violent."

"However bad he thinks he is, I'll guarantee you that Sabal is worse," Nendir said with confidence.

"She's a woman, not a monster," Aly said abruptly, standing up. "I'm going to follow from a distance. I don't like the idea of Sabal not having reinforcements."

"Right behind you, Aly," Linnan said, drawing his knife to check the edge.

Storunn stood up reluctantly. "If ye think he's dangerous…" he said, letting it trail off.

Nendir was glaring at his halfling partner. "You're really agreeing to this?" he asked.

"Sabal's our friend," Linnan said. "She saved us in Gracklstugh."

"She's going to murder someone," Camran said bluntly. The human cleric looked serious and grim-faced.

"We don't know that," the thief argued. He sheathed his dagger. "We kill people all the time, Nendir, and I don't think this will be any different. I don't think Sabal will kill anyone who isn't trying to kill us. Sabal is a lot of things, but she's not the kind of person to cut down a helpless man."

Aly bit her lower lip. She knew Sabal better than anyone. However, she didn't say a word. Linnan could believe what he wanted to believe. He was right in a way: Sabal was a lot of things. One of those things was drow.

"We can be pretty damn sure," Nendir said. However, he wavered in the face of Linnan's conviction. "Fine. We'll follow."

Camran sighed. He wanted to refuse, but the rest of the group would need him if it turned into a fight. As much as he was angry with Sabal right now, he didn't want to take it out on them. "If she kills him, Aly, we'll have to do something," the cleric said quietly. "This is Waterdeep. She can't just murder people like it's the Underdark."

The look Alystin gave him was silent and unreadable.

* * *

Sabal walked down the waterfront with Niall. It had been a quiet walk as the sun set through the city to reach here where the waves lapped against the docks, neither one of them saying anything lest their words reach prying ears. Finally, Niall broke the silence. "I know about Holt and his devils. He used to hire me. They've been thick as thieves for a long time," he said, tucking his thumbs behind his belt as they came to a stop by one of the piers. "There's one he talks to all the time, through a scrying glass, named Moloch. Something powerful. I don't know what."

"What is this Moloch planning with Holt?" Sabal asked quietly, her pensive expression lost in the darkness of her hood.

Niall chuckled. "Hells if I know," he said. "Something that Holt didn't want anybody to know. He's a sly bastard, I'll give him that."

"Do you know who else he talks to?"

The sallow-faced man shook his head. "Bunch of nobles. I could pick them out of a crowd, but I don't know names."

Sabal knew she could look into his memories and find them, but she wasn't certain what else she would find as well. It would likely be nothing unexpected, but that didn't translate to pleasant. "I need you to go to Lady Alustriel in Silverymoon," Sabal said quietly. "And point them out to her."

Niall smiled humorlessly. "And be treated even more like scum? People like me don't talk to people like her. Besides, why make an enemy of Holt? He might need someone to do his dirty work and he at least pays."

"Is it really about money at this point?" the drowess said when she turned to face him. "No amount of coin will ever make your problems go away. Even if you had all the gold in the world, you'd be ever so slowly poisoning yourself and everyone around you. Luhix gives with one hand and takes away with both."

"It's all I have," Niall said. "You told me you would help with Drustan."

"And I am helping you," Sabal said. Her amber eyes were studying him thoughtfully. She hadn't gone for a weapon because she knew she wouldn't need one. Niall would be strong, maybe even inhumanly, but the drug had left his will sapped. She could feel his unguarded mind bleeding suffering into the world around it. What a miserable creature. Was it strange that she felt actual pity for him?

He was more use to her alive than dead, she told herself.

Niall started to fidget. She could see that the skin on the back of his left hand was red from where he'd been scratching it. "You don't understand," he said in a low voice. "Holt takes care of his people. I could be one of his people. I could have the coin, the respect—"

Sabal grabbed him by the wrist before he could draw his knife, her gauntleted grip tightening when she felt him preparing to lash out. "You will find," she said quietly, "that I am a no more desirable enemy than Holt. I'm offering you a choice, Niall. You can work for me, or you can go where all of Holt's men eventually go."

Niall laughed. "You're threatening me with death? Me?"

Sabal leaned in and whispered in his ear, "It's not a threat, Niall. It's a promise."

Something in those accented syllables seemed to reach him in his drug-deprived haze, chilling his blood just enough that he was listening. "So what would you want me to do?" Niall asked.

Sabal pulled out a small, adamantite drow promise token, one of her own. It had the glyph that had once been Xullae's on it. She only had two with her, but she'd showed them to Alustriel. It was a symbol that the noblewoman would recognize as not at all like anything Holt would have. "Take this to Lady Alustriel and tell her everything you know about Holt and Moloch. She will help you in a way that I can't. Oh, and Niall? I will know if you don't find her. Don't let anyone see you leave the city." She folded the promise token, along with something else, into his palm. "Off you go."

Niall turned and walked away, oblivious to the small group who had watched the exchange. He looked down at the contents of his hand. There was the glyphic token…and a ruby cabochon polished to a high shine. Perhaps working for the hooded woman wasn't going to be so unprofitable after all.

Once he was well and gone, Sabal turned her head sharply and glared into the shadows where familiar minds were waiting. They'd probably approve, she thought sourly. It was probably going to blow up in her face later, but that was future Sabal's problem. "I can see you," she said, irritated. The shadows were no cover to drow eyes, unlike Niall's. They wouldn't have been able to hear the conversation.

"You let him go?" Nendir said, surprised.

"Give it time. I might change my mind," Sabal said shortly, striding over. "Aly, Holt is working with a fiend named Moloch."

"I ran across that name in Alustriel's library doing some research," Alystin said, her grey eyes pensive. "A pit fiend, Sabal. And I think a duke at that."

The drowess wanted to spit a vile epithet at the universe at that revelation. Storunn didn't look pleased either. The others, however, seemed to not realize the danger that this entailed. "What's a pit fiend?" Camran asked. He wasn't familiar with demons and devils the way their wizard seemed to be.

"A very powerful breed of devil. Archfiends are elevated from the ranks of the dukes," Alystin explained. "We can't beat a creature like that in a straight fight. Not without Alustriel and probably ten other people at her level of power."

"What I would not give for the Yath'Abban," Sabal muttered in her native language, covering her eyes with one gauntleted hand as she tried to think. How in all Nine Hells were they supposed to handle that kind of power? Still, she and Aly had survived this far. She sighed. "Aly, what are the chances that we'll have to handle Moloch?"

"Incredibly low, if Holt is trying to maintain any level of secrecy," Alystin said, leaning on her staff. "Hiding an infernal duke would be quite the feat. However, we can expect Moloch to have granted fiendish boons to Holt…which would explain the change in him that Drustan described. That could mean any number of things in combat. We also still don't know how many cultists there are."

"Holt is our priority. Alustriel will have Niall as a resource to root out the rest once he's gone," Sabal said. "None of you are to tell Drustan what happened. He will find out, but by the time that happens, I aim for him to be in Silverymoon singing like a cavern breeze."

"Thank you, Sabal," Camran said softly. "You didn't have to let him go."

"I may live to regret it," Sabal said brusquely. "Let's just go back to the inn. Aly, could you contact Yvonnel by scrying?"

"Who's Yvonnel?" Nendir asked, puzzled.

"An ally of Sabal's," Alystin said. She looked at her lover. "Interference would be a problem, but I could probably pass her a brief message. You want to ask her for help, I take it?" The wizard couldn't help her reluctance.

"Tell her about Moloch, if you can," Sabal said. "I want someone prepared if something happens to us."

"Understood," the wizard said softly. She didn't trust or like Yvonnel, but she knew that the priestess would probably present a much more potent enemy for Moloch and Holt than anyone on the surface probably could. Even Alustriel had to dance around her neighbors to avoid war or conflict. Yvonnel had no such compunctions. Her reach was limited, but if she knew who and what she was facing, she would be able to marshal a considerable covert response.

Sabal nodded.

The city was quiet for the rest of the night.


	13. Encounter

"I miss privacy," Alystin admitted as she walked through the streets with Camran. She didn't feel nearly as safe as she had in Silverymoon, keeping her staff and spellbook close. At the moment, Nendir and Storunn were practicing while Linnan and Sabal did some preliminary scouting of Holt's manor house before they all went back to see Drustan once evening fell. She and their cleric were going to visit the Temple of Beauty, where Sune's faithful made their obeisances. Aly wasn't certain if she was comfortable with the idea, but Sabal had given strict orders that no one go anywhere alone and Camran had insisted it would be good for her. "We haven't had much time alone together since Silverymoon."

"Is she still afraid to tell anyone?" Camran asked. His feelings towards Sabal had warmed again after she let Niall live, though it didn't seem to have improved her attitude towards anyone any. He was still her friend as far as he was concerned, even though he didn't always—or often—agree with her methodology. He felt bad about his assumption of Sabal's worst, but neither he nor Nendir had come up with a good way to apologize. Sabal's modus operandi towards the whole thing was to ignore it anyway.

"If I were you, I wouldn't dare to let her hear you say she might be afraid of anything," Aly advised quietly. It was bizarre to her that she was confiding anything in a human priest of Sune, but then again, Camran was the only one who knew. She wouldn't be taking the advice of a person younger than she'd been when she went to Sorcere, but it was nice to be able to say what she was thinking out loud and have someone listen. Nede wasn't here to be her sounding board, though the Matron's voice was also often an unhelpful one—Nede had always been a lot bolder than Aly and her advice was generally out of the wizard's comfort zone. "She doesn't care if people know. I just…how? We've been so careful to be so secret for so long. I don't even know how to _not_ hide."

Camran gave her a little smile. "Kissing her in front of the others wouldn't work?" he said with a chuckle. He honestly wasn't certain how the others would take it. It had taken him a whole sleepless night to figure out how he was going to approach it and how he felt about it. Part of him was worried that someone wouldn't react well. He didn't want the world to give them a reason to hide again.

Aly shook her head. That would certainly make it known, but she felt like that wasn't the right answer. Maybe a prayer to Sune was in order. Aly knew her soul was a little stained to be offering up a prayer to any surface god, but maybe a goddess of love could understand why she'd done what she'd done. Then again, she wasn't certain that Sune was prepared for the kind of love that flourished in the Underdark. The surface seemed to give rise to something lighter and gently beautiful, like a delicate flower. The Underdark's romances were beautiful the way knives were beautiful: dangerously, painfully, wickedly so. If love in the Underdark had ever had a patron goddess, she would have chosen Loviatar over Sune in a heartbeat.

"You should do something with Sabal before we go after Holt," Camran suggested. "Without the rest of us. I know we're all crammed into the same room, but maybe you could go out to dinner or something."

It was a good thought. Aly knew she could probably persuade Sabal to put down her sword for at least a few hours. She smiled a little at the thought as they cut through a back alley, the expression vanishing in a blink when someone grabbed her from behind. "Camran!" she snapped without hesitating for a second. She drove her elbow back at the person holding onto her, ducking away from the drawn knife. The edge of her blade slashed a burning line across her cheek as she broke free. There were more at the other end of the alley—penned in. She cursed. Someone had been waiting for this.

"Hello, Alystin," an altogether too familiar voice said from the other end of the alley. The men were all masked and hooded, but she recognized the voice: Elénaril.

"Did I not come to see you quickly enough?" Aly said sweetly. What she knew, that he didn't know, was that she had spent the better part of a century mastering silent spells.

"My father would rather speak to you on his terms than yours, as it turns out. He'd like to know all about your charming friends," Elénaril said. He didn't sound terribly apologetic. "Would you please be your lovely, accommodating self and agree to come with us?"

"I'll take what he wants into consideration," Alystin said in her most reasonable. She snapped her fingers, conjuring up a little seed of flame. Before anyone could react, she hurled it straight at Elénaril. It swelled into a roaring fireball that hit him and his men, blasting them back out of the alleyway. The screaming that ensued was rather satisfying. She could see Elénaril rolling on the ground to try to put himself out. Before she could enjoy it, however, a cudgel hit her in the back of her head.

To her credit, Alystin didn't black out. She just dropped to the ground, a little stunned and in a lot of pain. She heard Camran call out to her in a distant way. Years of training kept her going when she wanted to just crumple. She kicked out hard, hitting the man behind her mid-shin. His knee snapped back the wrong way under the force, which made her feel a lot better. His partner kicked her back, but she threw up her arms to protect her head like she'd learned to so long ago. She shot up to her feet, abandoning her staff, slamming her elbow up into the standing man's jaw as she rose. He staggered back, nursing cracked teeth.

Camran grabbed Aly by the hand and pulled her towards the end of the alley. Unfortunately, he'd chosen the end of the alley occupied by Elénaril. The half-elf picked himself up just in time to hit Camran so hard in the jaw that something cracked. It didn't knock the cleric of Sune out, but only barely. He staggered back into Aly's arms.

Elénaril chuckled. "I genuinely wasn't expecting that, my lady. You impress."

"Vith," Alystin hissed under her breath, realizing that Holt wasn't the only one with a fiendish boon when she caught sight of red in Elénaril's eyes beneath his hood. A new improvement, clearly. The fire had not been nearly as effective as it should have been, though his arms were scorched and smoldering from where he'd covered his face.

"Aly, if you can run, I'll—" Camran started.

She slapped him in the back of the head. The idea of Camran making some noble sacrifice so she could scamper away like some surface damsel was irritating. She was a better combat caster than him, so she was infinitely more suited for this particular battle. "Get the others," she ordered in her best noble voice. Before the cleric could answer, Elénaril was hit in the chest by a giant fist of stone that sent him flying across the street and into a shop window. "Now!"

Camran had learned from Sabal to just listen. He took off at a dead run despite the horrible pain in his jaw, headed straight for the Dancing Cyclops. He didn't know if Sabal or Linnan would be there, but Nendir and Storunn were definitely in the area.

Aly glanced over her shoulder and saw Elénaril's goons—the ones who weren't broken—getting up as well. The crowds of the streets were screaming and parting as she stepped out of the alleyway and into the light. The Watch would be here before too long, but that didn't mean she was safe. Not with Holt's connections. In fact, it was probably better to not be caught, no matter how good she was getting at batting her eyelashes.

"Your evocation magic is phenomenal," Elénaril said as he stepped back out of the shop he'd been flung into. "I've never heard of a human with such a complex mastery of the school. Not just silent casting, but casting during other speech…. The technique!"

"I've been around," Aly said dryly, grateful he couldn't see through the disguise. She murmured a brief phrase and runes glowed to life around her. The first person to step within arm's reach would be getting an explosive surprise.

"Beauty and brains, a delightful combination," Elénaril said with a smile. "Alystin, darling, you're wasted on Lady Alustriel. Why don't you come with me?"

"You're not my type," Aly said as she wove patterns in the air deftly. She'd always done well under pressure and now she knew what she was dealing with. Knowledge, as every drow knew, was power. A wall of fire roared to life behind her as she manipulated the Weave, forming a barrier at the mouth of the alley between her and Elénaril's thugs. She wanted to summon an ally, but she would have to do without.

"I like it when they struggle," he said with a grin. She saw a hint of sharpness to his teeth that hadn't been there at the party.

It was time to take things up a notch. "I'll remember that," she said with a grin as she tapped into a source of power forbidden on the surface. The air around her hands swirled and started to turn dark with crackling, eldritch energies. Normally, she would never apply magic like this to a fiend. However, she'd done some tinkering to tailor abyssal magics to her purposes. They naturally attacked anything infernal. " _Seek."_ She let the chaotic energy loose and watched with satisfaction as it rippled through the air, homing in on the nearest source of infernal power. It hit Elénaril in the chest and he let out a horrible scream as it worked its way under his skin, trying to eat away at hm from the inside out. Even if it didn't kill him, he would never be the same. Some wounds didn't heal.

Aly felt a little bit of residual sickness just from drawing on those powers, but they didn't slow her down as she ran away. Once she was a few blocks away, she slowed to a walk and sucked in a deep breath. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and with its absence came fear. What the hell had she been thinking? Hopefully Camran was alright. Hopefully she would be alright. She dabbed away the blood that had run down her pale cheek and tucked her staff in the edge of a different alley. She would be less distinctive without it and it wasn't exactly irreplaceable: it was just a plain piece of Underdark wood with some runes carved into it, nothing anywhere near as ostentatious as average for a magic user.

Alystin looked around and realized with a sinking feeling that she had no idea where the hell she was. When she glanced over her shoulder and saw the Watch, she took a deep breath and then ducked into the first store she saw. Her head ached ferociously and she could feel fresh blood welling from that cut. It didn't want to stop—the blade had been sharp indeed. The women in the store all looked shocked—it was a seamstress's place, dresses standing on mannikins beside bolts of fabric, thankfully blocking easy view into the place.

"Awright, luv?" one of the women asked, bustling over. She was a buxom brunette with some extra fabric draped over one shoulder with an apron on that was full of pins and adorned with numerous pockets for buttons and thread and the like. Her dress was older and much repaired, but still fashionable for a commoner.

Aly shook her head, summoning up tears. She'd heard they worked on the surface and she knew she probably already looked frightened. The response was an immediate coo from the woman and several others who all appeared to work here. Her small size and girlish looks were to her advantage. They hurried her into the back. "Dinnae worry," an older woman promised once she was in the back room with more girls, finding her a stool to sit on. Part of the area was a little kitchen, so she found herself with a cup of tea almost before she could blink. "We'll look after ye."

"Aye, luv," the first woman said, patting her on the arm. "Me name's Maudie. That's Gertie."

"I'm Aly," the wizard said in her best meek voice, grateful for the protection whatever their motivations were.

"Ye seem like a good gel," the older woman—Gertie—said. She was a stern-faced figure and built like the figurehead of a great battleship.

"Maudie!" a young girl called over her shoulder from the front door. Aly was out of direct view, but she could hear just fine. "These lovely Watchmen want to know if we've seen a girl run by!"

"Naw!" Maudie called back after she handed Aly an apron to put on, bustling towards the door. "Off'n with ye! There be whole plenty o' gels 'ere, and none o' them be causin' trouble."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we need to take a look around," a male voice said firmly.

"Pssh," Maudie said, looking him up and down. Aly peeked around the corner so that she could see, carefully staying below eye level.

"Biscuit?" Gertie whispered, holding out a small tin. Alystin shook her head slightly, holding onto her cup of tea and praying silently to any god listening. "Dinnae worry. Maudie's got ye."

The watchman's nerves seemed to fail at Maudie's glare. "Ma'am, we've got to," he said plaintively.

"Off'n with ye, Sean Cavanagh," Maudie said, swatting at him with a piece of fabric. "If I see'n yer gel, ye'll ken it. Off'n!"

It was enough to dissuade the Watch from coming into the shop. Aly let out a sigh of relief when the door closed. "Thank you," she said as soon as Maudie returned. The woman wetted a cloth in the kettle and bustled over, wiping away the rest of the blood on Aly's cheek. It stung a little bit when she got close to the cut, but the wizard didn't complain. She was grateful for the help.

"Ye dinnae look a theif," Maudie said, scrutinizing Alystin thoughtfully. "Gonna 'afta lay low for a bit, ye ken?"

"I am not a thief." Aly nodded a little bit at the second part. She glanced around and then smiled at Maudie. "If it helps, I can sew," she said.

The woman chuckled. "Aye, that'n help."

* * *

Camran was slammed against the wall, his feet not touching the floor. "Sabal, relax," Nendir soothed as best he could, trying to pry Sabal's hands off Camran's throat. She wasn't squeezing very hard, but she had scared the hell out of the cleric of Sune.

"You left her!" Sabal snarled.

"Sabal, she told him to!" Linnan said. Before Camran could squeak out anything more in his defense, the halfling kicked hard into the back of Sabal's knee. It was enough of a distraction for Nendir to free Camran, who immediately squirmed away and dove so that a table was between him and Sabal. People were scattering out of the way in the Dancing Cyclops.

Sabal upended the table with a kick and grabbed Camran as he tried to run. "Take me to her," she hissed in his ear.

Camran nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. He'd seen Sabal upset, but Aly was always there to run interference. Seeing Sabal's violent protective anger without their wizard there to soothe it was not turning out to be a pleasant experience. He was fairly certain that when she cooled down, she would appreciate the tactical nature of Aly's decision to send him for reinforcements, but that time was not now.

They made it to the alley where the ambush had started, but there was no evidence of what had taken place other than scorch marks and blood. "She probably ran," Nendir said, looking over at the shattered shop window. "I'm guessing she put Elénaril through his paces, too."

Sabal didn't answer, focused mostly on the horrible sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she hunted around for any sign that Aly was alright. Nothing to be found. She knew Aly could take care of herself. Her lover was intelligent and resourceful. That did nothing, however, to calm her down. Logic had little bearing on the emotions of a wilder. "Then we look for her," Sabal said.

"Sabal, Waterdeep is a big city. We might be better off waiting for her to find us," Nendir said.

For his part, Camran healed his own jaw as well as the forming bruises that Sabal had left and voiced his thoughts quietly. "She must have gone south," he said. "Because I went north. And I doubt she made it out of the Trades Ward. Smaller area for us to search."

"Start asking around," Sabal said, pinching the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. Her head was pounding as her psionic powers started to make themselves felt. She really just wanted to break something, preferably the person responsible. Her thoughts were clear enough now to know that her intended victim shouldn't be Camran. Elénaril was the person to kill.

As her companions questioned people in the area, many of whom had been present for the battle, Sabal reached out to her limits to try and find the mind she loved above everyone and everything else. There was no sign of her. Alystin had either made it a good distance or been captured. Sabal cursed to herself as she waited for the others to return with news. Fortunately, they were quick to do so.

The meager trail they had evaporated a few blocks later. No one knew which way she'd gone. Sabal took a deep breath after the others reported back. Losing it wasn't going to help them find Aly. She tried to think about what her lover might have done. "She wouldn't have stayed out in the streets," Sabal said darkly. She almost flinched when a hand came to rest on her shoulder and she turned her best glare on Nendir as if trying to silently order him to pull it away. He didn't.

"We'll find her, Sabal," the elf said reassuringly. "She can't have gone far. We can check the shops in the area."

They spent four hours searching shops before they finally ended up at the seamstress's. Sabal was exhausted. She'd been reaching out as far as she could until she was too tired to sustain it with no luck whatsoever. "Have you seen a young woman running this way?" Camran asked patiently. "Brown hair, grey eyes, a staff? We're her friends."

The middle-aged woman studied them with suspicious eyes, lingering on their weapons. "Naw," she said.

Sabal felt the lie as soon as it was spoken and her temper spiked. She stepped into the woman's space with such authority that the seamstress actually backpedaled despite her normally commanding personality. "Where is she?" Sabal demanded, voice raised but not shouting.

It was loud enough for Aly to hear it from the back. Their wizard dropped what she'd been working on and immediately came darting into the main room. "Sabal, I'm—"

Before she could finish, she'd been pulled right into Sabal's arms for a tight hug. The wilder didn't say anything. It was a brief embrace, nowhere near as long as Sabal wanted, but it was still a reassurance that Aly was alive, well, and here. "I was starting to think the worst," Sabal said softly as she let her lover go. She touched her lover's chin, gently turning Aly's head so she could see the cut.

"Camran took the worst of it," Aly said despite her splitting headache. "I'm alright. Just a few bruises." She turned to the human seamstress who had relaxed a little at the sight of their greeting. It was significantly warmer than a would-be assailant would have given. "Thank you so much for your help, Maudie. I should be alright now."

"Awright," Maudie said, offering a small smile. "But ye come'n back by if'n ye need'n to."

"I'm going to kill Holt," Sabal muttered softly as they stepped outside. "I'm not waiting on Alustriel."

"What happened to waiting for evidence?" Nendir asked, watching as Camran wove a healing spell over the wizard's cheek. It took care of the wound on the back of her head as well.

"We may have to," Alystin said seriously. "I don't know whether Elénaril is alive or not, but caution would lead me to assume he is alive. He will be greviously wounded if that's the case, however, which will likely lead Holt to vengeance. He can't afford not to strike out. "

"And I have no intention of allowing him the luxury of time to plan it," Sabal said. She caught hold of her lover for a moment as they walked back towards the Cyclops to grab the last of their gear, giving Aly's hand a soft squeeze as if to remind both of them that she was here and safe. Linnan spotted it and blinked. Sabal being touchy with anyone was a little bit new, but he supposed he could see it with Aly if it was going to be with anyone. "We will have to hope that Niall can tell her everything she wishes to know."

"The authorities in Waterdeep will not be pleased," Camran said, keeping his tone soft so Sabal didn't take it as a challenge.

"Just as Matrons are sometimes displeased. Dangerous, but not insurmountable," Sabal said. Granted, on the surface she wasn't protected by the auspices of the Yath'Abban, so she had to take that much more care. "So long as we aren't caught, that won't be a problem. I don't intend to make my home in Waterdeep."

Aly nodded. Part of her was just a little bit sorrowful, as she would not be having an opportunity to spend some time with Sabal out at dinner or something like that. Not when Holt was looking for her. "We need a place to stay where Holt isn't going to be able to find us, at least for a little while."

"I know a place," Linnan ventured. "Found it when I was scouting for Drustan. It's just a few streets down from his shop. Little hidey-hole smugglers used to use. Squatters use it sometimes, but if we show up, they'd probably bugger off."

"A smuggler's place?" Sabal said thoughtfully. "Does it have a smuggling route to go with it?"

"There's a tunnel under it that runs through the city to the docks," Linnan said with a nod. "Tunnel is haunted though, at least if you listen to the squatters."

"Undead? No problem," Storunn said, testing the edge of his axe. "Let's see what yer place has to offer, Linnan."

They hurried into the Dancing Cyclops and out just as quickly with their gear. With Holt aware that at least Aly and Camran were in the city, such a public place probably wasn't safe to stay in. They made their way through the streets to Linnan's suggested hiding place.

The smuggler's place wasn't much to look at, but it was empty. The building was a squat, grey stone storefront with a sign bleached to illegibility by the elements. Their halfling rogue led them to the back door, out of view of the street, and unlocked it with his set of picks. The interior of the building was surprisingly nice. Aly had expected far rot and mold. It was dusty and full of aged crates long ago emptied. People had broken a few of the boxes apart and moved them out of the way to create spaces hidden from initial view where they could sleep. There was no sign of anyone. "This will do," Sabal said, giving Linnan an approving nod.

He locked the door behind them with a grin. "Glad you approve," he said, giving her a little bow.

"I need rest and time to prepare my spells," Alystin said as she started unpacking her bedroll. "Is there a place we can keep watch from?"

"Upstairs has some windows," Nendir said. He'd seen them when they were outside. The elf tested the stairs with one foot. They actually seemed quite sturdy. "We could at least keep an eye on the main street."

"I can set up some alarm spells to cover the back," their wizard said. Alystin wasn't too tired, but she knew she would be if she tried to pull a full day. That abyssal spell had taken more out of her than she'd thought it would. It required immense concentration to keep control of magics so unpredictable. She was just grateful Elénaril had been tainted enough to immediately draw it like a moth to flame, rather than having to steer it forcibly away from innocent people.

Sabal nodded and pulled off her hood before heading upstairs. The odds of someone being able to peer in and see her were low at best. Alystin took a moment to place alarm spells out in the alley and then magically lock the back door before following the wilder. The others were busy laying out bedrolls and carrying out their usual rituals: Nendir and Storunn tending to their weapons, Camran praying, and Linnan inspecting all of his gear for damage.

By the time she arrived, Sabal was looking out one of the windows, her hands resting on the sill. Alystin stepped in, slipping her arms around Sabal's waist. "I'm sorry I worried you, _d'anthe_ ," the wizard said softly, pressing a light kiss to the hollow just behind the point of the inquisitor's jaw.

"I wish you wouldn't put yourself at risk," Sabal said, covering her lover's hands with her own gauntleted ones.

"You do it all the time, Sabal," Alystin reminded her gently. "I can take care of myself, just like you can take care of yourself."

"I know," the wilder said. She knew Aly had nearly made herself sick with worry on more than one occasion when particularly difficult and dangerous missions demanded Sabal's attention, but the wizard accepted it without more than the occasional admonition to be careful. They both knew that Sabal's duty was not the kind that could be set aside. "I'm sorry."

"We need to find a quieter life," Alystin said with a wry smile. She knew it wasn't possible: for them, even humdrum daily life was perilous. The world of drow nobles and servants of Lloth was not as pedestrian as the world of the surface even in times where they weren't at war. There was always the chance for poison, for knives in the dark, for vengeful curses to wreak their horrible effects. Neither of them were in a position to relax.

"Alustriel invited us to stay in Silverymoon a while, after this is over," Sabal said so softly that Aly almost didn't hear it. "Though obviously that will depend on what happens."

"That's very generous of her," Aly said. The wizard could tell that Sabal wasn't certain how she felt about that still. "Do you have any thoughts on the matter?"

"Yvonnel would not like the delay," Sabal said. She sounded hesitant, cautious. "But maybe some time in Silverymoon, away from demons and danger, would not be such a bad thing. Just for a little while. You could spend it in the library."

"I'd much rather spend it with you," the mage said, resting her chin against Sabal's shoulder. "We may never have an opportunity like this again, to just be the two of us away from everything. The Yath'Abban can wait a week or two. I trust that Alustriel isn't luring us into a trap. She's not malicious by nature, as strange as that is to say of anyone." What Aly didn't say was that she suspected the woman could see good in Sabal as well, hence her willingness to allow Sabal in Silverymoon despite the wilder's abrasive nature. Sabal had her charms, at least as far as the wizard was concerned. She was just more secretive about them.

"If you want to, I am willing," the inquisitor said. There was that same air of uncertainty to the words, rare to hear from Sabal.

Alystin smiled and kissed beneath Sabal's ear again. "I promise you'll enjoy every minute of it, Sabal," she promised softly. "It's not so terrible up here, as it turns out."

Sabal sighed and leaned into her lover just a little bit. "I don't like it," Sabal admitted.

"I understand," the wizard said. She rested her head against Sabal's. "Just don't get the idea that I love it more than you, though. My home is where you are. The surface may have its charms, but they'll never be more enchanting than yours."

The wilder smiled. "Flattery," she said, trying to sound dismissive even though the reassurance was welcome. She turned around, slipping her own arms around Aly. Now the mage could see the worry in those amber eyes. It hurt Alystin's heart a little bit to see it. But Sabal didn't say a word about it or give any indication other than that expression. Instead, the inquisitor kissed her lover softly and slowly. When she pulled back, she said reluctantly, "The others will miss us."

"They can wait a little bit," Aly said, linking her arms around Sabal's neck. "The world can wait. I love you, Sabal. I'm here and I'm alright. As long as we're together, we can do this." She pulled her lover into a much deeper kiss, trying to remind Sabal of how present and real their time together was.

They could take on Holt and all his infernal allies after Sabal's worry had been soothed.

Downstairs, Linnan looked quizzically to the stairs. "They've been a while," he commented.

Camran had taken up his place at the foot of the stairs. "I can hear them talking," the cleric said thoughtfully, turning his staff over in his hands. It had actually gone quiet upstairs, but he figured that Aly and Sabal would need some time. His job—his divinely ordained duty, even—was to keep everyone out of the way so love could flourish. "We'll give them as long as they need."

"We should be planning," Nendir said, pacing to contain his agitation. Camran smiled a little at the thought that he'd learned it by watching Sabal, who seemed to be in constant motion when she was upset. "We're not prepared to take on Holt."

"Nah," Storunn said, shaking his head. "Can't be prepared. He's devilish. Ain't no telling what a fiend has waitin' for ye. 'Sides, we made it this far."

Nendir sighed. "Fine, we wait."


	14. The Deal

"Drustan agreed to leave for Silverymoon?" Sabal said impatiently, studying their halfling.

"This whole take-on-Holt-directly plan doesn't give him much choice," Linnan said with a shrug. "But yeah, he was packing when I left."

Sabal nodded. She had to hope that between Drustan and Niall, Alustriel would have enough evidence to cover their back. She didn't expect that the authorities in Waterdeep would be understanding, of course, no more than Matrons would be pleased with a disruption of this size in the power structure of their city. "Let's go," she said firmly.

"Are we certain this is wise?" Nendir asked even as he followed their scarred drowess down into the smugglers' tunnel.

"Nope," Storunn said, shouldering his axe. "But we're doin' it anyway, lad."

They descended into the dark, their way lit only by the grainy graveyard glow of Aly's magelight. Sabal was in the front to protect her eyes and give any attacker second thoughts while the mage followed along just behind her. Storunn was bringing up the rear. It was a passage about ten feet wide, though it narrowed in places. "I'm not detecting any undead," Camran said. "I think the rumors may have been just that: rumors."

"That passage connects with the Undermountain's depths," Sabal said, nodding her head to a fissure that lead down and to the left at a sharp angle. "I can smell cavern breezes."

"Holt's mansion will be in the Castle Ward. We've got a ways to go," Alystin said softly. "Gaining entrance to it may not be easy."

"Between you and Linnan, I think we'll manage," Nendir said with confidence. Now that they were actually committed and going, he felt a little bit of certainty coming back. Camran was feeling the same way.

It was probably for the best that neither one of them could see Sabal's expression, as the drowess was not convinced of their success in the slightest. This would not be a simple battle like those they'd had against bandits on the road. Holt would have magic at his disposal, powerful magic. Add to that the assistance of devils and his own fiendish boons, and it became clear that Holt was a formidable foe. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, but there was nothing to be done except soldier on. In her heart of hearts, Sabal knew that Holt would be waiting for them. An attack on Aly wasn't something that they could have ignored, even if she hadn't been the wilder's lover. That waiting meant that they were undoubtedly walking into an overwhelming force or at the very least an ambush. There were few things in the world worse than a prepared cultist.

The group was surprisingly quiet as they approached the Castle Ward. Above, it was night. Sabal had made certain they were moving when it was dark out, even if they were going underground. Warren-like passages led off on either side of them as they walked. Sabal navigated just as though it was the Underdark, though she was relying on Alystin's lodestone. The wizard had enchanted a smooth stone to point towards the mansion. Sabal let it dangle from a leather cord, following the turning of the rock. Nothing hindered them in their way, something that worried Sabal more than a little. It felt too easy. When things felt too easy, it was generally a sign that something unpleasant was to follow.

They emerged in the cellar of an inn and crept out through the door to the street, just a few blocks away from the mansion. The group hugged the shadows closely, hopefully evading the eyes of Holt's spies. "Is it warded?" Sabal asked as they approached Holt's expansive home.

"No," Alystin said, tension audible in her voice. "That worries me."

"He's expecting us," Linnan said quietly.

Sabal turned around to look at her group. "I cannot vouch for the safety of anyone going beyond this point. The odds are not in our favor here and now."

"We're coming," Nendir said firmly. "You aren't going this alone." He wasn't certain, but he could have sworn he saw the faintest flicker of relief on Sabal's face. Aly relaxed slightly, clearly appreciating their presence. Behind him, Camran and Linnan nodded their agreement.

Storunn just looked grim. "Expectin' us? Well, let's not keep the bastard waitin'," he said gruffly.

"Thank you," Alystin said with a grateful smile. She turned to her lover. "Let's go."

Sabal nodded and lead the way through the open gate. Holt's mansion was surrounded by a low wall that enclosed a stone courtyard. The house was dark except for the main hall and quiet, even the servants probably asleep…provided Holt kept any. The inquisitor felt that strange calm descend on her, the one that was always a prelude to battle. The front door wasn't even locked when she tried the handle. She took a deep breath and then pushed it open, revealing the interior of the house. It was lit only by a fire in the great fireplace at the far end of the hall, flickering flames casting strange shadows on the walls. As soon as all of them had stepped in, the door closed behind them with a muted click of a lock engaging.

Alystin threw up a barrier reflexively, sensing the spell before she was even aware of it consciously. The blast of fire was mostly absorbed by the shield, but the flare of light stung their eyes—particularly Sabal's—and the force knocked Linnan and Camran off their feet. The others managed to keep their balance, but just barely.

"Welcome to my humble home," a sonorous, baritone voice said. Holt detached from the shadows near the mantle gracefully as other figures stepped out of the two side halls. He was a dark haired, patrician man with hawkish features and intense dark eyes.

One of them was a limping figure recognizable even in the dim light: Elénaril. There was something hideously marred about his face that hadn't been there before, black veins of corruption creeping up from his neck. His right arm was twisted up and withered slightly like a claw, matching his limp on that side. The eyes of the group except for Aly and Sabal's went wide. "What happened to you?" Camran blurted out despite himself.

"Your friend, priest," Elénaril said, pointing at Alystin with his good hand. "I knew you were dangerous, Alystin, but Abyssal magics? You're so much darker than I ever thought. Congratulations on fooling me. It's a much more difficult task than fooling your little friends."

"Aly wouldn't—" Camran started to say.

"How well do you really know your friends here?" Holt said casually. He slammed the end of his staff against the floor, releasing a powerful pulse of magic. The ring of disguise on Alystin's finger exploded in response, prompting a cry of pain from their wizard as her real form was revealed. She clutched at her hand, flesh scorched where the ring's magic had been overloaded. "An inquisitor of Lloth, a disciple of a demon lord. Why else would drow come to the surface but to do harm in the service of the Abyss?"

Sabal's temper flared the moment she heard a noise of pain from her lover and she lashed out viciously at Holt, that banshee scream of psionics tearing the air. It wasn't her full force—she was holding back, waiting for the fiends to appear. She could smell the brimstone now.

Holt staggered back at the impact against his powerful will, then chuckled and straightened up. "I _felt_ that. Congratulations, Inquisitor A'Daragon. You've done what few can do—a shot across my bows. I took the liberty of augmenting my will when Moloch told me what I would be facing." He gestured powerfully, conjuring up two barbed devils. "Kill the drow. Leave the others. Somehow, I think their convictions are…wavering."

Alystin hurled a bolt of lightning at the one of the creatures, earning a screech of rage from it. Storunn lunged forward, interposing himself between Aly and the devils as the fiends hurled itself at the wizard. "Got yer back!" he roared. He didn't believe the worst of his companions and he had already known Aly's true identity from their time in Menzoberranzan. The wizard was relieved and definitely grateful.

Camran, Linnan, and Nendir hesitated. They had not been prepared for Aly suddenly becoming a drow.

"We need you!" Aly shouted at them, unable to pull her eyes away from the devils. She was healing Storunn as quickly as he was being wounded, but it required all of her concentration.

Sabal dodged past the devils and went straight for Holt. As much as she didn't want to leave Alystin with just Storunn helping her, she had to press their enemy hard so he wouldn't be able to stay back and hurl spells at his leisure. He pitched a fireball at her as she charged, but Sabal dropped to one knee to dodge it. It was painful, but it worked. He threw up his black steel staff in a block as she brought her blade down at him. She lashed out psionically, battering at his will. He couldn't withstand the onslaught forever and she was more than happy to keep the pressure on. It was the best thing that she could do to protect Aly and the others.

"Lads, come on!" Storunn shouted. "We can't do this without ye!"

Holt's eyes flared with an infernal flame. There was a blast of eldritch energy from the direction of his battle with the inquisitor and Sabal went flying backwards. Their wilder hit the wall _hard_ , ribs cracking on impact. For a moment, her vision went black, but then she was back in her battered body again. She heard Aly scream her name. A stream of vile epithets in Drow was her answer as she dragged herself back up to her feet. She wasn't certain, but she had a feeling some of her vertebrae were cracked as well.

It was enough to galvanize the others into action. Camran went sprinting over to Sabal while Nendir and Linnan stepped up to help Storunn and Aly with the devils that were almost shredding the dwarf to pieces. The priest wove his healing spell on Sabal and she felt her bones snap back into place. "Follow me," Sabal ground out, sprinting towards Holt again as he started to weave another fireball spell aimed at the rest of the group. Before he could finish the incantation, Sabal's armored body collided with him, smashing him against the wall.

He grabbed the drowess by the throat and squeezed as his fingernails twisted into a devil's claws. Sabal ignored the crushing, choking feeling and kicked out. She didn't break his knee, but she did drop him for a second. It wasn't enough to stop the next fireball spell from hitting her in the chest. The explosion of flame singed Camran as well, but Sabal soaked up the worst of it. The inquisitor was smoldering on the ground, armor blackened and scorched. The cleric could see a dull red glow from part of her breastplate. Camran rushed over, but as he knelt down by her side, Holt kicked him in the side of the head.

"You should have stayed out of it, priest," Holt said as Camran tried to pick himself up off the floor. He slammed his staff down hard on the cleric's ankle, breaking bone. "But I'll make you a deal. Surrender, and I will allow you to live. You have my word, and a man is only as good as his bargains."

Sabal was temporarily blind from the sudden flash in front of her sensitive eyes. All she could see was afterflash, but she could still—mercifully—hear. Her years of blindfighting were about to become very useful. She groped out blindly with her psionics, seizing a large log from the great fire roaring in the hearth with invisible force and then hurling it as hard as possible at the back of Holt's head. The wood broke on his skull and he staggered forward, but it didn't drop him the way it should have. His fiendish boons were in full effect.

 _Aly, we need reinforcements,_ Sabal said as she picked herself up off the ground.

The wizard heard the psionic call and knew what it meant. The gloves would have to come off. She took a step back and wove a conjuration spell, reaching through the planes down to the Abyss. The air ripped and a towering, four-armed demon appeared. Two of its arms ended in great pincers, while the smaller and more delicate ones were clawed. Twin horns swept back from its draconic head, eyes burning with an Abyssal hate as it looked at the other fiends. It grabbed one of the barbed devils and picked it up in its massive claws, grabbing one arm and then the other before ripping like it was pulling apart a wishbone. There was a horrible sound of gristle and meat tearing and then the summoned devil evaporated. The other devil forgot about the group of adventurers and hurled itself at its mortal foe, locking in combat with the more powerful demon.

"The hells is that?" Nendir shouted, wide-eyed. It was not hard to feel the evil emanating from the horrifying creature. A split second too late, he saw the twisted figure approaching their wizard from behind as she tried to weave another healing spell for Storunn, who was bleeding badly. "Aly!"

"Remember me?" a voice whispered in Aly's ear the moment before the dagger plunged into her back.

Alystin gasped, feeling more than just the knife in her back—cursed, infernal magic was pouring into her veins from the blade, torturing her already tainted soul even more. She sank to the ground, slumping into Storunn's arms. There was a soft hiss of her breath escaping around the blade that had pierced a lung. She and the dwarf were on the ground now. Storunn was bleeding badly from the wound to his head and she could feel the curse burning. She gasped out syllables of a healing spell, grabbing onto Storunn. His wound slowly started to close, but the pain was beyond anything that she could have ever imagined. Worse, the curse wasn't letting her fall unconscious. It was paralyzing agony. She couldn't even scream. Only more than a century of dedicated training kept her spell going.

Elénaril ripped the long, jagged black knife free just in time to parry Nendir's sword. The elf was a wrathful creature, because whatever Aly was, she was his friend. They were both blindsided by the demon that Alystin had just lost control of as the pain claimed her. The glazebru hurled them both into the wall, but its vile rage was focused on the nearest infernal thing it could see: Elénaril. It swung a powerful claw back and then slammed it down, crushing the half-elf's ribcage in.

Nendir found himself staring down the demon. "Aly!" he shouted, backing up.

She heard her name through the twisting black and managed to whisper out a banishment. The demon's form wavered and then vanished. "Camran, we need you!" Linnan shouted as he rolled Aly onto her side to look at the wound. There was a smell of brimstone and blood from it and a spreading pool of crimson. However, their wizard was alive—the curse wouldn't let her die. "Aly, hang in there. Can you do that for me?"

Over with Holt, Sabal was picking herself off the floor again after a second fireball had struck her square on. "Can you handle him?" Camran cried out even as he started the agonizing process of dragging himself towards the others. Nendir and Storunn were rushing forward towards Holt to help Sabal.

"Go!" she snarled. She dropped her sword and lunged at Holt, grabbing him and dragging him to the ground with her. He had fiendish strength, but she had technique. He was no grappler.

It was a brutal fight. He clawed at her and she battered away at his face with a gauntleted hand as they smashed each other into the ground. He managed to get ahold of her throat again, claws piercing the sides of her neck. As unconsciousness surged up to meet her, Sabal worked the strange, broken-bladed dagger that she always carried out of her belt. She drove it with both hands up under Holt's chin, not stopping until she heard the hilt connect with his jaw in a meaty thud. His life flashed away abruptly, but his hands didn't release her throat. Nendir and Storunn had to pry the claws off her, which left Sabal gasping blindly on the ground, her hand coming up to clutch at her bruised trachea.

Before they could do or say anything, she fumbled for Holt's body. She could feel magical energy pouring off the amulet he was wearing around his neck now that he was gone—ancient magic, divine magic. This was what they had come for, the map contained not in a scroll any longer, but in this. The moment she touched it, there was a sudden flaring of bright, white light.

 _She was standing in a beautiful, verdant garden that was beyond the compare of even Silverymoon's most beautiful greenery, surrounded by the melodies of songbirds and a surging feeling of peace. She could see again, the golden sunlight falling on emerald leaves. A pool of crystalline water gleamed off to her right, revealing sapphire depths._

 _"Welcome, Sabal," a melodic voice said. She turned, and there was a woman with long, flame-colored hair. She was so beautiful it was almost painful to look at her, like looking into the sun. Sabal dropped her eyes, not out of respect, but to avoid hurting herself. She could feel divine magic everywhere, flowing through her body like blood, but it was not the black and twisted kind she was accustomed to._

 _"You are Sune," Sabal said, her grip tightening on the pendant. "And I have what you want."_

 _"If the Abyss is allowed to reclaim that map, they will march on the Upper Realms. I do not think that we can endure that," Sune said. "Think of what will happen to the planes as they drown in darkness. Think of what will happen to your lover. Isn't that what this is about? Love?"_

 _The drowess stood silent, staring at the ground where delicate pink flowers were blooming. Finally, she forced herself to look up, into the blinding beauty that was Lady Firehair's cerulean eyes. It was gazing upon perfection. "I want to make a deal," Sabal said._

 _"I could take it from you," Sune said softly._

 _"But you won't," the wilder said. "Because you're good." She said the last word as if it was distasteful. "I'm not. So we're going to make a deal."_

 _"Very well," Sune said, caution evident in her musical voice. "What is your price?"_

 _"Alystin," Sabal said. There was not a shadow of doubt in your voice. "You claim her soul. You protect her. You don't let the Abyss have her."_

 _A faint smile crossed those perfect lips. "Selfless, for an evil creature. I am sorry, Sabal. It was her choice to make a deal with a demon lord," Sune said gently. "I cannot undo the path she has taken. All power has its limits."_

 _"But if she turned away from the dark, you could take her in," the drowess said coolly. "You could save her."_

 _"She is tainted, Sabal. But…it is possible," the goddess said. "There is a chance, an almost infintestimally slim one, that I could wrest her away from the clutches of evil, if she was willing."_

 _"I want your word that you will do everything in your power," Sabal insisted._

 _"You will take my word?" Sune said, surprised._

 _"You will lie?" the drowess countered._

 _The goddess bowed her head. "It will not be a guarantee."_

 _"This is her only chance," Sabal said. "Promise me, and you can have your map."_

 _"And what of you? What of Lloth? Have you considered this carefully, Sabal? You will pay a heavy price in this life for just a fraction of a chance that she will be safe in the next," Sune said warningly._

 _"You of all people should understand," Sabal said, holding out the pendant. "Do we have a deal?"_

 _Sune smiled sorrowfully. "We have a deal," the goddess said as she took the trinket. Then everything went white again…_

Sabal gasped when she came back to her body and looked down at her hand. The pendant was gone.

"Sabal, you have to come. Aly—" Nendir started.

The inquisitor dragged herself up to her feet, seizing him by the front of his shirt. "Is she alright?" Sabal said, her voice raw and gravelly from being choked.

"No," Nendir said. He slipped his shoulder under Sabal's to act as a crutch and helped the swaying wilder over to Aly. Their progress was slow until Storunn caught her other arm and helped prop her up as best he could, allowing her to catch her feet underneath her.

Sabal dropped to her knees next to her lover as Camran tried to heal the wound and touched her forehead to Aly's. She reached out psionically and tried to pull all of the pain into her own body. It wouldn't be something that she could sustain for very long, but she was willing to try it until she broke herself. She felt the wizard's hands frame her face and try to push her away weakly, but she didn't stop hurling herself mentally at the sharp walls erected by the curse, keeping them separated.

"I can't do anything," Camran said. "The wound won't close, but the curse is keeping her alive. We need Alustriel's help." He grabbed Sabal by the shoulder and shook her until he broke her concentration. "Sabal! We need Alustriel!"

It took her a moment to register his speech, but after a few seconds, she nodded wordlessly. She slipped her arms under Aly and rose to her feet, operating with the automaton-like rigidity that was her training to work through pain.

There was a pounding on the doors—the city watch. "Through the back!" Nendir shouted, leading the blinded drowess and her lover through one of the doorways, the others following hot on his heels.

It would be a desperate run to Silverymoon, but what else could they do?

"Aly. Aly. Aly," Sabal found herself saying, praying, as she tried to reach out psionically and find that familiar mind. What she found instead was an impenetrable wall of twisted black thorns of pain that kept her apart from her lover. She knew Aly was alone and in pain, but she couldn't reach the wizard.

It was the worst feeling in the world.

"Alustriel will help," Nendir said, grabbing Sabal's upper arm for a moment. Her head turned towards him, but her eyes were still unseeing. Her vision would return, albeit slowly. "She'll help Aly, Sabal." He and the others could sit down and try to process everything that had happened later, when they were safe. There would be a reckoning then, but not now.

They made their midnight run out of the city, shouts of the Watch fading in the distance.


	15. Two Paths Diverge

The slow return of her vision did nothing to ease the sick, twisting feeling in the pit of Sabal's stomach as she watched Aly lie on her bedroll. The wizard's eyelashes were fluttering. She had slipped out of full consciousness to drifting in and out, and the moments where she was awake, Sabal saw no flicker of recognition in those grey eyes. Aly's breath just came ragged and that same, impenetrable wall of pain barred Sabal from being able to reach her. They were almost to Silverymoon.

"You're an inquisitor of Lloth," Nendir said, looking at Sabal. It was the worst he could have possibly imagined, and yet she hadn't killed him even though that fact alone was ample reason. It was conflicting.

Sabal saw no point in lying now. "Yes," she said quietly.

"And Aly—"

The wilder's jaw tightened. "And Aly is no different now than she was yesterday, save for the curse. She is a good woman. She is your ally. We both are. Whatever you may think of us, neither of us have changed."

"You lied to us. Why should we believe that?" Nendir asked darkly. "And Storunn, you knew."

"We omitted information. We did not lie," Sabal said.

"I knew that the lasses were drow, aye, an' that Sabal is one of the Spider Queen's lot," Storunn confirmed, cutting in before Nendir could spit out the incensed commentary on the tip of his tongue. "Didn't know aught 'bout demons an' Aly, though."

"And you didn't tell us that because…?" Camran said. He was more hurt than angry like Nendir.

The dwarf shrugged. "The lass asked me not to," he said, motioning to Alystin's still form. "An' I figured, what's the harm in it? Like Sabal said, didn't change who they are none."

"And the map," Nendir said, his glare focusing on Sabal. "You gave it to Lloth."

She laughed without humor. "Oh, had I given it to the Spider Queen, we would not be having this conversation. She would have commanded me to kill you, and I would have been forced to obey. An inquisitor cannot refuse Her, no matter how we wish otherwise," she said. "But we are beyond Her reach at the moment and so I gave it to Sune."

"Why?" Camran asked. He had his answer when Sabal's amber eyes flickered over to Aly for a second.

"I made a deal," Sabal said. She hated to admit it and hated even more to ask for help. "Aly's soul for the map. I will not lose her to the Abyss if I can help it. But she'll need you, all of you, to come back to the light. If she does not, no amount of power, divine or otherwise, will protect her."

"And what about you?" Linnan asked. "If what you say is true, you won't be going back to the Underdark, Sabal."

"Yes, I will," Sabal said quietly. "We all have to answer for what we do. If I do not return to Menzoberranzan and face the wrath of Lloth, they will come looking and they will not stop until they find us. Then they will do unspeakable things to Aly and to all of you and anyone else who crosses their paths. I will not allow anyone else to come to harm on my account, particularly Aly. The decision was mine."

Linnan and Camran quieted, but Nendir's anger was not abating. "We trusted you!" he shouted. "Why should we help you?"

"How many times did Alystin heal you?" Sabal said. The drowess's tone was even and restrained. Now was not a time to give vent to the answering anger that was growing in her chest. "How many times did I step in to guard you from a blow that should have killed you? We paid for your survival in blood and effort. If you want to leave, then leave. I will not demand you stay."

"Nendir," Camran said softly. "Aly needs us. Sabal needs us. If it was you who had been stabbed with that cursed dagger, neither of them would leave you. Sabal's right. Whatever the lie, it doesn't change the fact that they've stood by us in every fight against every foe. They've had every chance to plunge daggers into our backs or kill us when we were sleeping. But they didn't. And it's not like Lloth is going to take Sabal back and turn her against us. Not if she really gave the map to Sune."

"She would say anything to get us to help Aly," Nendir said hotly, glaring at Sabal. "And we've established she has no objection to twisting the truth."

"Well, I'm helping," Linnan said firmly. "Storunn's helping. No idea about Camran." He ignored the betrayal on Nendir's face, though it was difficult to do.

"If Aly really does want to return to the light, I have to help her," Camran said. There was no doubt in his mind that their wizard had good in her, no matter how tainted her soul was from dealing with demons. "Leaving a demon lord's service is no small thing. She'll need all the protection we can offer."

"So you're all just going to ignore the fact that we were lied to for months?" the elf said.

"We're not going to forget, Nendir," the priest said. "But I'm willing to forgive."

There was a war going inside Nendir's head. He wanted to storm off into the darkness and not come back, but there was a significant part of him that still remembered waking up in Gracklstugh to an Alystin pleased with her healing work. He thought of the strange companionship he'd formed with Sabal over the course of many a training bout. Lloth was a hated foe and Her servants equally so, willing to do whatever it took to get what they wanted, but was he really going to burn the tentative bridges created forever? He'd considered both of them friends, and good ones at that. They'd stopped Holt. And what if Sabal was telling the truth about giving the map to Sune? What if she really was going to return to the Underdark only to face the burning wrath of one of Faerûn's most unforgiving goddesses?

After a long moment, the elf's shoulders slumped. "Fine," he said. "But no more lying. No more secrets. And this isn't over, Sabal. I don't trust you."

"I'm not asking for trust," Sabal said. "I'm asking for help."

"There is another secret you should know, if we're being completely honest," Camran said. He looked over at Sabal and she gave him a small nod even though the expression on her face was pained. "Not a damaging one. Aly and Sabal aren't just friends. They've been lovers for a very long time. At least, I think."

"More than a century," Sabal said.

Storunn, Nendir, and Linnan all looked a little taken aback. "Why didn't you tell us?" the halfling asked.

"For safety. It is a widely accepted practice among the drow to strike at each other through lovers. We did not expect the surface to be any different," the wilder said quietly. "We were going to tell you all after Silverymoon, but it didn't feel safe enough. Not after we were attacked."

It was quiet for a long moment and then Linnan piped up. "We all need rest. Watches?"

"Sabal, you're not taking a watch," Nendir said.

Amber eyes flashed, but she bowed her head in acknowledgement. For the first time, she was free to sleep next to Aly on the trail now that everyone knew. She started to methodically unbuckle her armor as the others discussed who would go when before returning to their beds. Camran had the first watch. She slipped into Aly's bedroll and wrapped an arm around her lover, pulling Aly in tight to her body. The wall still existed around the wizard's mind. Sabal closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but with little success. _You should have been watching her. You should have taken that blow,_ she told herself. _You promised her she would be safe._

It was a restful night for no one.

They moved not in the day, but in the next night. It was agreed that it would be better to enter Silverymoon when the moon was high and far fewer people were in the streets. The walk to the palace was a silent one, the group still processing everything. Sabal didn't have to use her abilities to sense the mistrust from Nendir or the silent reproach from Camran. Linnan seemed the most accepting of the change besides Storunn, though the halfling was moving cautiously around her. The guards stopped them before they could reach the Moonbridge, but Camran stepped up and explained that they needed Alustriel's help. It took a lot of persuasion for the guards to allow them past, a success achieved probably only because the group was recognizable as those who had been guests of Lady Alustriel in the past.

The human noblewoman was waiting for them just inside the main doors, brow lined with concern. "Come to my rooms," she said quickly the moment they stepped in. "The curse will draw attention."

"You know?" Camran said. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. This was a daughter of Mystra, after all.

"The wound is bleeding dark magic," Alustriel said. She didn't seem shocked at all by Alystin's true form, but perhaps that was a result of her worry. Sabal considered, however, that it was not unlikely that Alustriel had at least guessed at the truth. The human was certainly powerful enough to perhaps even see past the illusion the ring had given off. Why they had been allowed entry originally if that was the case was a question the drowess couldn't answer, not that it mattered at the moment. The noblewoman ushered them into her private quarters, comfortable rooms that were carefully warded. Sabal recognized the effect. The curse would not be detectable from the other side.

The guards watched with wary eyes as they passed, but Sabal paid them no mind. She hurried after the silver-haired woman, cradling Aly in her arms. "Can you help her?" the wilder asked.

"It will take a great deal of power," Alustriel said. "Infernal magic is not something I can simply banish at will. But yes, I think I can. I will consult with a few of the clerics and see if we can do something swiftly. If not, I should be able to unravel it, but it will take time."

The gratitude Sabal felt didn't eclipse her fear for Aly, but it came close. She would owe Alustriel forever, and at the moment, she was alright with that. She sat down on the edge of the bed, finding her lover's hand with her own. "Thank you," she said quietly, looking up at Alustriel.

Alustriel cleared her throat. "The rest of you should go rest," she said firmly. "I understand that you will need some time to….process things."

"Can I do anything?" Camran asked quickly.

The noblewoman nodded. "Go to the Temple of Mystra and find help. Tell them it's an emergency."

Storunn grabbed Nendir by the arm and pulled the elf out of the room, Linnan and Camran following on their heels. It left Sabal alone with Alustriel and Aly. Her amber eyes were focused on Alystin's face. The silver-haired human touched the wilder's shoulder lightly. "She will recover, Sabal," she said. "I know what you did for her. It was the right choice."

"I know," Sabal said softly. "She will need someone, when I'm gone. Someone who can pull her out of the dark."

Alustriel's bright eyes dimmed slightly with concern. "You intend to return to the Underdark without her, then?"

"Silverymoon would not be safe if I stay," Sabal said. She opened Alystin's hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. She didn't care if Alustriel knew. She had a feeling that the human had guessed anyway. "That means Aly would not be safe. She needs the surface, at least for a while. I trust that we'll find each other again someday."

"If you return to Menzoberranzan and Lloth, the chances of that will be slim at best," Alustriel said softly. "It will break her heart."

"If there is one thing I've learned, it's that heartbreak heals," Sabal said. She turned to look at Alustriel, amber eyes somber. "Will you protect her for me?"

"She will be too weak to follow you for quite a while. I can buy you time, but I will not be able to hold her here forever," Alustriel said quietly. "As long as she remains in Silverymoon, she will be safe. You have my word."

Sabal inclined her head to the noblewoman. There weren't words for how much that meant to her.

Alustriel smiled faintly, if sadly. "I will work on her cure."

"I intend to stay until she's on the mend," Sabal said. "After that, I'll leave in the night. I may need your help incapacitating the others. They trust you. They no longer trust me, but that might not stop them from trying to help."

Alustriel nodded before vanishing into her study. She returned in a few minutes with an armful of tomes. Sabal held onto her lover's hand tightly and whispered in the privacy of her own thoughts to Sune, _We have a deal._

There was no answer as Alustriel set about her work.

* * *

"I can't believe…" Nendir said softly, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall, "…evil won. Not Holt's evil, but still evil."

"Lady Alustriel believes Sabal gave it to Sune, and I believe a daughter of Mystra," Camran said, a touch of heat in his voice. He'd just come from Aly's bedside, helping the clerics. It had been hard to see the expression on Sabal's face, something torn and forlorn. Even if she was a servant of Lloth—or former servant of Lloth, as the case might have been—she was still their friend. The wilder wasn't leaving Aly's side. "How long are you going to hold a grudge, Nendir? Or is this not punishment enough for you?"

The elf was quiet in response to that, struggling to find words. Linnan looked up at him. "Let's call it good, Nendir," the halfling said softly.

Nendir's shoulders slumped. "You're right," he said quietly. He hadn't forgotten all the good Aly and Sabal had done for him. "We should go talk to Sabal, at least."

"Talk to me about what?" a familiar voice said, rough from exhaustion.

They all looked over. Camran was surprised, though Sabal did look absolutely dead on her feet. Her amber eyes looked bruised from lack of sleep. It had been days since they arrived in Silverymoon and the cleric was fairly certain she hadn't slept more than a few minutes over the couse of the whole time. She sat down on one of the couches and slumped back, amber eyes drifting half-closed.

"I know you hid all of this from us," Nendir said as he sat down next to her. "But maybe that was for the best. I'm sorry, Sabal. I lost my head."

The next words from her shook all of them to their cores. It was something they had never thought she would ever say. "I'm sorry too," Sabal said quietly. She was both apologizing for the secrecy and for what she was going to do. She let her head rest back against the couch. "Aly's sleeping now."

"Is the curse gone?" Linnan asked.

"It's fading fast, according to Alustriel," Sabal said, her amber eyes closing under their own power as if her eyelids were made of lead. The rest of her words came out as a mumble. "A few more hours, and it will be gone. She's safe."

"Then you'd better sleep, so you can be there when she wakes," Camran said warmly. It was a huge relief to hear Aly was going to be alright.

Sabal only slept for about three hours. Then she was awake with far more energy than the others had expected from her. She headed straight for her lover's bedside, the rest of the group following. Alustriel was just coming out, a faint smile on her face. "She's waking up," the silver-haired woman said, sounding pleased. She held the door open for the amber-eyed drow. "Just a few minutes, then she needs to rest properly."

The wilder nodded and steeled herself. This would be the last time she saw Alystin, maybe forever. She wished she could have another night, another year, another decade, another lifetime. However, she couldn't risk Alystin being able to follow her. Not until Lloth's wrath had run its course.

"Let's give them some time alone," Camran said, catching Nendir by his shoulder before he could follow Sabal in.

Nendir stopped in his tracks and nodded. If Aly had been his lover, he would have wanted time in private with her. "Agreed," he murmured softly, closing the door behind Sabal.

Ensconced in the privacy of the room, the wilder immediately went to Aly's bedside. The room smelled of magic and healing herbs from the surface, unfamiliar to her nose. When she leaned down next to Aly, she caught the familiar spicy smell of her lover's soap. It made her throat constrict to the point of pain. " _Ussta ssin,_ wake up," she murmured, stroking Alystin's white hair. It was clear what a toll the cursed wound had taken—Aly's already delicate face looked thin from the strain on her body.

The wizard's grey eyes fluttered open and a small smile formed on her lips. " _D'anthe,_ " she murmured, reaching up to touch Sabal's cheek. "I love you."

Sabal's lips quirked up into a smile, but her eyes didn't smile with them. "I love you too," she whispered softly before kissing her lover. Then she leaned back and looked at Aly, still stroking her hair. "I couldn't reach you."

"You just did. That's all that matters," Alystin said. She tried to sit up, but she stiffened at a spasm of pain that shot through her body and gasped a little bit.

"Stay in bed, Aly," Sabal said, gently pushing the wizard back down. She hesitated for a moment, but the words found their way out anyway. "Do you remember when I asked you if you would love me no matter what I had to do to keep us safe?"

"Yes," Aly said. She brushed her thumb along Sabal's cheek. "It's still as true as when I said it then. I will always love you."

Sabal leaned down and kissed her again. She lingered against her lover's lips and touched their minds hesitantly, unwilling to pull away. It drew upon all of her training, but she was able to keep her intentions hidden from Aly even as she lost herself for a moment in the familiar warmth of the mage's affection. "I keep you always in my heart, _ussta ssin,_ " Sabal said gently when she had to break apart.

"You're sweet," Aly said. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. The pain was back, but it was a mere fraction of what it had been.

"Get some sleep," Sabal said. She could feel a burn in her eyes, but no tears fell. She was too good at keeping a stony face. She stood up, "Alustriel said you should be on the mend, though it may take months before you're back to your old self."

"The others?"

"Surprisingly forgiving," Sabal said. She found Aly's hand and gave it a soft squeeze. "Dream of beautiful things."

Aly laughed. "You're the only beautiful thing I need," the wizard said. She was starting to drift back to sleep. "I'll see you when I wake, _d'anthe._ "

Sabal stepped out into the hallway where Alustriel was waiting. "The others?" the wilder asked.

"Sleeping like the dead," Alustriel said. Her expression was serious, almost resigned. "I took the liberty of adding something to their wine. No ill effects, but they will be out for a day or so. I had them put to bed."

"Thank you," Sabal said. Her expression was stony, but a brief gratitude flashed in her amber eyes.

"And nothing will make you reconsider this course of action," the human noblewoman said. Her tone was understanding rather than questioning. Alustriel sighed. "I will explain it to Aly as gently as I can, Sabal. Be well."

The inquisitor bowed respectfully before taking her leave. It would be a long and lonely road back to Menzoberranzan, but she would follow it. Sabal pulled her hood up and melted away into the night, but not before silently promising herself and Aly that she would find her lover again, whatever happened in the depths.

But now? Lloth was waiting.


	16. The End

Aly had been quiet for weeks. She was still eating, still sleeping, but not talking. All of them had been taking turns at her bedside since she and Alustriel spoke. The silver-haired human had taken them all aside and requested, respectfully, that they not immediately tell Alystin where Sabal had gone, lest she try to follow while she was still less than fully healed. The wizard's immediate reaction on being unable to learn anything had _not_ been positive. The wall of the guest quarters was singed now from a lightning bolt she'd hurled at Camran, though she hadn't really been trying to hit him all that hard. The priest had been her most constant companion. He hadn't taken the lightning bolt personally, though he had been a great deal more cautious even though she was no longer screaming at him. Sometimes he thought he saw a flash of tears in her eyes, but for the most part, Alystin was holding up with a stoic silence worthy of their erstwhile wilder.

"She'll come out of it," Maev promised as she sat down next to Camran. He was sitting on the floor outside of the door to Aly's room. She reached out and took his hand, her fingers interlacing with his.

"We should have stopped Sabal," Camran said, his brow creased with worry for the absent inquisitor. She was still his friend. "When Aly's healed, she will go after Sabal. I want to help her. I already talked to Linnan and Storunn about it. Unfortunately, Nendir isn't going to be able to follow where we go."

"It'll be dangerous," Maev said softly. She smiled at him, just a hint of sorrow to her expression. "I'll only let you go if you promise to take care. Alystin's heart isn't the only delicate one in the world."

"I will do my very best," Camran assured her, giving her his very best reassuring smile. He could tell she wasn't completely convinced. "You look good out of your armor." He hadn't realized it until he had gotten to know her better, but Maev was a paladin-initiate of Torm. Theirs was a budding romance, delicate like green growth at the melting of winter's snows. It was shared smiles and the brush of hands, laughter and soft looks. Logan's glowering presence was still a problem, but her brother had been keeping his distance lately, after Maev finally lost her temper with him. She could be quite fearsome when her blood was up, apparently. Camran found it endearing.

She blushed. "You're sweet," she said. She sighed thoughtfully after a moment. "She could come out of this state many ways, Camran. There's just as much chance this will harden her heart as soften it."

"Sabal trusted us to make up the difference," Camran said. "She knows she still has friends who care about her. And while I do think there will be a lot of healing to do, she does know that Sabal loves her. There's good in Alystin, a lot of it. She'll pull through this."

Maev leaned her head against his shoulder. "I wish I could see as much good in people as you do, Camran," she said. He could hear warmth in her tone.

The priest of Sune put an arm around her and gave her a light squeeze. "I'll show you," he promised.

Inside the room, Alystin could hear the faint murmur of voices, but she couldn't make out the words. They didn't matter. She was laying in bed, crimson cloth knotted around one hand. It was Sabal's sash, one of the two things that she'd left. The other was the dagger with the jagged blade and the so life-like silver spider on its hilt. She focused on the familiar, soft texture of the red spidersilk between her fingertips and let her mind wander for a moment to all the times she had unwound the cloth from across Sabal's hips. Sometimes she could almost lose herself in the memories. She wanted to find Sabal more than anything in the world, but walking was still so painful that she wasn't certain she would be able to make it across SIlverymoon, let alone the world.

If Sabal hadn't wanted her to know where she was going, that could only mean someplace dangerous. Either she was hunting down the rest of the cult out of revenge or…Aly didn't even want to think about the other option. Sabal wasn't a fool. She had to know she could never return to the City of Spiders after what she'd done. Her friends had given her all the assurances in the world that Sabal would be alright. Alystin wasn't certain what qualified as alright to them. She had a sinking, certain feeling that they had no idea what they were talking about.

She was grateful for them, though some part of her wanted to be bitter. At first she had been angry—furious—that they were keeping her from Sabal. But she couldn't sustain anger the way her lover could. Eventually, the fire turned to embers and she found herself taking comfort in the presence of her friends. They all had their own ways of trying to offer comfort. Storunn sat with her and took care of his armor or his axe. He would usually try to fill the silence by discussing plans for a future she was having troube seeing. Camran talked to her, updating her on everything that the group was doing. She could feel vicarious stirrings of warmth in the center of her chest when she recognized the look on his face when he spoke of Maev, but it was painful too. Nendir brought her things to read, mostly spellbooks from the library that Alustriel recommended, though they sat unread on the desk. She had cracked them open in an effort, but her mind could never focus on one thing for long enough. Linnan was the one who seemed to understand the most. He sat quietly with her, never asking for a thing and never uttering a word. He never expected her to talk back—he was just _there._ She wanted to thank him, but the words never came out.

She hadn't said a thing since her outburst at the group, back when she had been unreasonably angry. She couldn't bring herself to speak to even Alustriel, who came by every day to see how she was progressing. The muteness wasn't helpful to the healers who invariably accompanied Silverymoon's Shining Lady, but as far as she could tell, the silver-haired human wasn't holding it against her.

Now, she just felt lost and alone. These four walls had seen more tears of fear and helplessness than she'd thought her eyes could even hold, but never in front of the others. More than that, she was half-hearted. Not in the sense that she didn't mean anything, but in the sense that there was an absence at the center of her chest, that creeping feeling that she was missing something substantial, like a limb she didn't remember having. It wasn't that Sabal was gone. They had been separated many times, whether by duty or the Church or just time and space. When Sabal had left behind her sash and the knife, that was a clear signal that Aly would never be able to misinterpret.

It was a sign that Sabal didn't think she was coming back.

The moment she could walk to the window without feeling spasms of pain through her whole body, she was going to find Sabal. She had people who were going to help her, too. In their own ways, all of them had promised to help. That would have to be enough.

* * *

Sabal took a deep breath of cavern air. She had made it into the Underdark and Menzoberranzan wasn't much further. She could feel minds, unmistakably drow, approaching. This was not a regular patrol—this was people who knew. She could tell that much because it was a familiar mind at their forefront, sharp like a scalpel and cold with divine purpose. Sabal set down her weapons and slowly raised her hands. This wasn't about going down fighting. If she wanted Aly to be safe, it would mean surrendering. If they just killed her, it wouldn't be vengeance enough and they would most certainly go after her lover on the surface.

"You were smart enough not to run, I see," Yvonnel said coldly, emerging from the shadows. "I'm certain I need not cite the magnitude of your error in judgment, however."

"I am aware of what I did," Sabal said softly. "I was there."

"Failure carries a price. Disobedience, a higher one," Yvonnel said. She studied those unreadable amber eyes. "I would let you walk with us unbound, as I know you fully intend to cooperate, but you deserve no thought to your pride."

Sabal put up no fight when they shackled her. "What becomes of me?" she said quietly.

Yvonnel's expression was as forgiving as granite. "What I should say is nothing," the Revered Daughter murmured near her ear. "That nothing will happen to you and everything will happen to Alystin Druu'giir. But I am a charitable woman, Sabal. You will become an example, like so many others who have failed the Goddess. You know pain and then you will have to live with what you become, knowing that if she should ever see your face again, she will be too horrified to find it in her heart to love you. And before you protest that she always will, ask yourself whether you would even want her to. I think you'll find that you'd much rather see her happy with someone else."

The wilder was not immune to fear. She felt it now, cold and sickening in the pit of her stomach. If there was one thing that frightened her in the entirety of the world, it was Lloth. But she loved Alystin far, far more than she could ever fear the Spider Queen. Even this fate—and she knew exactly what Yvonnel had in store for her with that little tidbit—was livable if she knew that her lover would be safe. "She will always have me," Sabal said softly.

"Does she have you now?" Yvonnel said, words calculated to wound. "You abandoned her on the surface. You left her wounded, surrounded by people as likely to kill her as help her. How betrayed do you think she feels right now? How hurt?"

The words did indeed wound, but Sabal knew there was nothing to gain by provoking Yvonnel with a rebuttal. It was already clear that the Revered Daughter was furious, in her own cool and calculating way. She had to tell herself that it would be alright, that Aly would be alright. _She always is,_ Sabal reminded herself even as she twisted the ivory ring she wore, that Aly had given her so long ago. A memento of happier, simpler days. And even if they took it from her, she would have her memory. She knew it would hurt, but if Yvonnel's words were any indication, she would survive it. Maybe not the same as she had been, maybe not as the woman Aly had known, but Sabal was confident that they would see each other again. They would be together again.

Where there was life, there was hope.

 **End.**


End file.
